


Alike

by raelee514



Series: Alike [1]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Jimmy, M/M, Romance, Slow Burn, bisexual awakening, friendship to romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-09-11 07:19:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 50
Words: 118,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8966077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raelee514/pseuds/raelee514
Summary: After the Kissing Incident, Before the fair (for now) a series of moments building towards something. Updated: After the Kiss, Before and After The Fair.Thomas and Jimmy will embark on becoming friends and the more that will inevitably follow.   It was a relief to know he could enjoy this for  longer than a few minutes.  Time with Jimmy, stolen time, but time nonetheless.





	1. Chapter 1

_3 Months after The Incident_

 

He thought time would make it easier. But if anything it became harder. Despite all the nastiness and the pain that come with it. Thomas couldn’t stop finding Jimmy Kent got under his skin in all the wrong ways. If Jimmy knew the thoughts Thomas found running through his head as he went about his days he is sure Jimmy would go to police. If he knew the dreams, he is sure Jimmy Kent would go to the police. 

Thomas pulled in a lungful of smoke and tried to stop his glance from sliding toward Jimmy. He was at the table playing cards with Alfred, he looked bored and kept sliding his hand into his hair. They were off duty for the night and it was habit Thomas noticed Jimmy curbed while working, but once he was off duty, he would slip off his gloves and his hand would mess up his perfectly coifed hair. 

It drove Thomas mad. 

Jimmy snorted, unhappily as he won another round against Alfred. He slouched down in his chair and looked balefully at the taller man. “I’m tired,” he pronounced but he didn’t look a bit tired at all.

“But we’ve only played two games?” Alfred said. 

“I know, you bored me exhausted,” Jimmy muttered and stood up. 

Thomas found himself smirking. He wanted to offer himself as a more challenging opponent but he knew he wouldn’t get a good response. Every time tried he was rebuffed, usually very rudely and he knew he didn’t need to take it. He could pull rank, he could remind Jimmy of his place. Call him James. Tell him not to be impertinent when he reacted badly to orders simply because they came from Thomas. 

“What’s supposed to mean?” Alfred said. 

“That you’re scintillating company,” Thomas said with brutal sarcasm. 

Jimmy snickered for a brief moment before he looked up at Thomas and seemed to realize who it was that caused his laughter. It was swallowed up then in a odd sound and he scraped his chair on the floor as he got up. Then he was gone. Thomas pulled in the last drag of his cigarette. 

Alfred looking confused looked at Thomas across the table. “Fancy a game?”

Thomas stared at him. The situation with Alfred was simpler for him, but it was a bit baffling to him Alfred was being friendly with him off duty. He wondered if it was guilt from the younger man, maybe even Alfred had realized how his aunt had manipulated the situation in attempts to get back at Thomas. 

“No,” he said coolly. 

“Maybe Ivy will,” Alfred said standing up and walking to the kitchen.

Thomas rolled his eyes. Ivy liked Jimmy, Alfred liked Ivy and Daisy liked Alfred. It was ridiculous, though it could be entertaining. Jimmy’s role in the mess was to flirt with Ivy in front of Alfred any chance he got. Or messing with Daisy. Thomas was sure he was doing it to be cheeky, for the fun of it all. Felt like he had no stake in the matter but to entertain himself. 

He was cheeky bastard, Thomas thought and he made his way up the stairs. It’d been a long day and by the time he made up to the servants quarters he felt even more knackered. He passed Jimmy’s room and couldn’t stop himself from glancing through the open door. 

Jimmy stood in his pajamas, flipping through a magazine frowning at the pages. Thomas spoke before he thought better of it. A trend when it came to Jimmy Kent. “Nothing interesting?”

He startled, Jimmy, of course. Jimmy stared at him for a long moment, enough that Thomas felt himself start to shift under the gaze. It was unreadable, which Thomas thought was a lovely change from the repulsion he usually saw in Jimmy’s expressions. 

“What do you want?” Jimmy snapped.

“You just seemed bored that’s all.”

“Well, I am and you aren’t going help that are you.”

Thomas bristled. “I might have an idea.”

“I bet you do, bloody back off.”

“Nothing like that,” Thomas said quickly, realizing just how what he said sounded after the fact. “Wait here.”

“Why would I bloody…”

Thomas walked away and into his own room. He went to his bookcase and looked quickly at the titles. He frowned realizing he no guesses on what Jimmy might want to read. He settled on a book about a soldier that he’d been surprised to enjoy, given it was novel set in the war. But it’d rang true and even made him rethink a few things. Walking back to Jimmy’s room he found himself surprised the door was still ajar. He walked to the threshold of it and saw Jimmy had moved to sit on his bed. He was still flipping through the magazine glaring at it, as if to dare it to turn interesting. 

“Here,” Thomas said and held out the book. 

Jimmy glared at him but Thomas straightened his already straight back.

“I’ll just leave it here, no rush to return it,” he said and bent down putting it on the floor. “Good night, Jimmy.”

Back in his room he let out a frustrated sigh. He should give it up, none of his reaching out was going to amount to anything. He started pulling off his clothing, his mind whirring in the way it always did at night. He liked his work, loved it if he was honest. He was good at his job, not that ever seemed to be noticed. He wasn’t good at being liked however and he told himself he didn’t care. He was quite aware he was lonely. He was aware much of it was of his own making. 

Like that night with Jimmy. He sighed and leaned agains the wall by his window, his head thrown back. It been stupid, the stupidest act of his life and there was quite along list. He wanted to believe it, even when O’Brien spoke and spoke about Jimmy to him, trying to egg him on a voice had warned him that she was playing with him, that it was a game, it was a trap. But he’d wanted to believe the opposite. He wanted to believe that she wouldn’t mess with him in that way, he wanted to think despite the games they’d played with each other it hadn’t truly effected their friendship. Not on such a level. 

She’d been out to ruin him. Very nearly had. Until Bates of all people helped him in more ways than one. He did forever have something over her but he’d never thought to use it. Not once had he thought to use it, until Bates’ prompting. 

It hurt. That was another loss another pain. He flexed his hand, staring at the scarring, the bullet hole and closed his eyes. He couldn’t rescue himself from all the hells he found himself in. Jimmy was his own making, O’Brien words had only added to his own deluded hope. 

They got along well, Jimmy was smart, much smarter than he let on. Jimmy played his roll well, he knew the effect he had on women and played it. He flirted and smiled. Jimmy was easily bored and he’d mess with people to make it less so and Thomas understood that, how could he not? Jimmy was arrogant, he wanted position, power but he had a mouth on him too. Thomas saw a lot himself in that, more than some and it was enough, it was enough to make him think maybe there was more than that he and Jimmy had in common. 

“I’m a fool.”

~~

Jimmy was at the piano. He was playing something new, it was fast and meant to be danced too. The moment Thomas thought that Ivy walked in and started moving near the piano.

“So wish someone would take me dancing,” she pointedly. 

Alfred straightened up in his chair. “I’ll…” he stammered.

“Jimmy you like to dance.”

“Who doesn’t like to dance,” Jimmy said with the smile he used when he flirted. Thomas found it calculating, a ruse and before he’d managed to twist that into thinking maybe Jimmy wasn’t as into woman as he claimed. It hurt to see it now and it hurt to know a fake smile made Jimmy look so handsome. Thomas wondered what a real smile might do the other man’s face. It was pointless he told himself, he’d never see it. 

“We could go dancing, a bunch of us,” Ivy said. “Right Jimmy?”

“I might go. Alone,” Jimmy said and focused himself at the piano. Starting another song. Thomas found he didn’t know it, he figured it was newer as the last had been — though he’d heard that one before. Maybe it was just from Jimmy playing around with the piano. 

Ivy sighed and walked out of the room, not noticing Alfred trying to get another sentence out. 

“If you don’t speak up, Alfred she’ll never see you,” Jimmy laughed.

Alfred deflated in his chair. “What you know?” he muttered.

“That’d be telling, but more than you,” Jimmy said. 

Thomas held back a snicker and decided to focus on his paper. The music abruptly stopped however and Thomas found himself looking over the edge up as Jimmy stood up and put his hands through his hair. 

“Well, I’m going up,” he said. 

“It’s early yet,” Alfred said. “Keep playing.”

“Not in the mood, want to read,” he said.

“Read?” Alfred said.

“Never heard of it?” Jimmy said. 

“Just find it right boring is all,” Alfred said.

“Startling information,” Thomas interjected unable to help himself. 

“How unsurprising,” Jimmy laughed. 

They’d spoken over each other and Thomas dropped the paper and looked like at Jimmy since they were in agreement. 

“Like I said, I’m going up,” Jimmy spat out so quickly he was nearly gone before he finished the sentence.

It was then Thomas wondered if he was reading the novel he’d given him.

~~~

_Six Months After The Incident_

 

He was always there. Thomas. No Mr. Barrow. Jimmy sighed and continued to polish the silver, trying to ignore the other man’s presence in the room. Walking around supervising, picking some silver himself to polish. Usually silver that Jimmy himself had already done. Mr. Carson would have made him fix whatever it was he’d done wrong, but Mr. Barrow just took it upon himself to do it instead. Jimmy hated it. 

It weighed on him. The damn guilt. It was ridiculous. It made no sense the man come into his bedroom and kissed him while he was sleeping. Whatever could have possessed him to do that. 

“Polishing silver, Mr. Barrow…” O’Brien said in that needling tone she had. 

Jimmy tensed at her voice and he focused more fully on the teapot he polishing. She was part of the problem. All her stay in good with Mr. Barrow. He likes you don’t rock the boat. Then all her needling him to report him to Mr. Carson, then pushing him to say he’d go to police if Mr. Barrow left with a good reference. He was used by her too and he didn’t like it. He’d just wanted it to go away, he wanted it disappear. 

But it wouldn’t. 

“Just helping out,” Thomas said. 

“I would think you have better things to do.”

“Part of my job is supervising, O’Brien, you know that.”

“Ah yes…” she picked up the teapot Jimmy had just put down. 

“Well, looks like James missed another spot.” 

James jaw clenched. He hadn’t, he wanted Thomas out of the room so he’d been sure this time. If anything Thomas’s unwelcome supervision constantly ended up making him less lazy at the job. 

“I did not,” Jimmy said and grabbed it from her. 

“I must be mistaken, I’m sure Mr. Barrow can know for sure.” She walked out of the room. 

“I hate her,” Jimmy said out loud without meaning too.

“Watch what you say, you do not want to be on her bad side,” Thomas said. 

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

“Right, talking to the teapot,” Thomas muttered and Jimmy wasn’t sure if he was meant to hear or not. 

Thomas picked up the teapot and then put it down. “Well then, time for a cigarette.”

Jimmy glared at the back of his head as he left the room before turning back to the silver and wishing he could go on break himself. He was in the room another hour polishing before he could leave. Making sure he didn’t miss anything, in case Carson checked things and not Mr. Barrow. 

He made his way to the servants hall, pushing his hands through his hair. Thinking about food and a smoke. He walked into the kitchen and smiled at Ivy. “Gotta any tarts?” 

“Not for you,” she said. 

“Oh, come on, Ivy. Been working hard all day.”

“And I haven’t,” she said but she smiled. 

“Fancy a break then?” he asked flirting purposely. 

“I… can’t,” she said stirring something in the pot on the stove. 

“Come on then… it’s hours before dinner yet.”

“It don’t feel like hours, she’s got work to do, take a biscuit and get out of the kitchen,” Mrs. Patmore yelled at him. 

He grabbed the biscuits and cup of tea, made his way to the table and sat down. It was his luck Mr. Barrow was sitting there himself, smoking and reading a book. Jimmy sighed feeling frustrated and grabbed the newspaper that was near by. He’d already read it, that morning, but he couldn’t just sit at the table. Not with him there. 

The problem was Mr. Barrow was a presence. Jimmy could feel him there, it didn’t matter if he looked anywhere but, he knew the other man was there. Watching. Mr. Barrow’s eyes were always sharp, focused, watching. Taking in everything in case there was anything he should know. Before, before he’d told Jimmy he could manage things, to not make rash choices. He’d more than once told him to keep his eyes and ears open, always. He’d been helpful. Jimmy had liked him. 

Smoke filled his nostrils and looked up to see Mr. Barrow lighting another cigarette and bring it his mouth. It was graceful motion, one that Thomas — Mr. Barrow — did without thought. It was breathing to him. He watched the cigarette go into the other man’s mouth and the lips pucker around it. 

“Want one?” 

Jimmy startled as Mr. Barrow spoke. “What?”

“Want a cigarette?”

Jimmy realized he did but… “No.”

“Suit yourself,” Mr. Barrow said, his eyes flicked downward, his usual cool expression faltered for a moment before he collected himself.

He was reminded of the effect he had on the other man and ducked his own head down. What did he do with that? It wasn’t…. It wasn’t something he understood. It was disgusting. That is what he’d kept yelling when O’Brien had him all riled up and afraid people might think that he… 

Might think. Might think. 

Alfred sat down next him. “I been thinking of making a pie, if Mrs. Patmore let’s me. What kind should it be?”

“A pie?” Jimmy said. “What you want to cook a pie for?”

“For practice.”

“You wish to be Mrs. Patmore, should we fit you for an apron?” Mr. Barrow said. 

Jimmy swallowed the laugh the image brought up. 

“I wouldn’t mind being in an apron, being in the kitchen,” Alfred said not at all aware of Mr. Barrow’s sarcasm. “So, what kind of pie you think?” he asked Jimmy.

“I don’t care.”

“Want people to like it.”

“Then ask people.”

“Mr. Barrow?”

“Not really a fan of pie,” Mr. Barrow said. 

“Everyone likes pie,” Alfred said. 

“I’m not everyone,” Mr. Barrow said, his tone dripping in arrogance. 

Jimmy looked up at that and watched the Under Butler stand up one fluid motion. “I have things to do before dinner service,” he said putting on more of an air of importance. But Jimmy thought he saw something behind his eyes and then he shoved the thought away. Who cares what’s behind Mr. Barrow imperiousness? 

~~~

 _A Few Weeks Later_  
Jimmy cracked his neck as he walked up the stairs. He was knackered but restless. Thankful his half day was coming up because it felt like months since he’d stepped foot out of Downton, he was going to go to Thirsk, find a pub and let loose. He needed it. He was bored out of his mind. Alfred was a dullard, Daisy was a bit better but not really a conversationalist and completely worthless to flirt with. She took it too seriously, she wasn’t into the game of it. Ivy was better with the banter but she took him too seriously too. 

“Everyone is so bloody serious,” he muttered as he walked down the hall. There was no one to talk too, the hall boys weren’t much better than Alfred. He wasn’t about to chat with the house maids, a few were fun for a flirt but not for much else. He felt freaking lonely, which felt stupid, he was surrounded by people all the time. 

He’d been short with Alfred again after beating him for the millionth time at cards. He couldn’t help but get fed up, he wanted some damn stimulation not the constant boredom of the same damn thing everyday. At least the family, now and again, would entertain when he was serving. There did seem to be always something going on, but it wasn’t enough and certainly wasn’t interesting everyday. In fact lately it all seemed frightfully dull. 

As he got to his door he felt something bump against his foot. He looked down and there was a book. He stared at as if it was a bomb and instantly looked down the hall toward Mr. Barrow’s room. He knew it was from him, this had happened last time. Annoying thing was the damn novel had been good and had given him some intellectual stimulation that he’d been sorely needed. The downside was he couldn’t talk about with anyone because he sure as hell wasn’t going to be talking to Mr. Barrow. 

He nudged the book with his foot again and looked down the hall. He should shove it in Mr. Barrow’s face. He didn’t ask for it, he didn’t need Mr. Barrow offering stimulation of any kind. None. Not at all. He opened his door, thinking he’d just step over it. But the minute he got in his room he saw the first book on his nightstand, bookmark in it — he’d already reread it three times. 

Jimmy sighed, he picked up the new book and tossed it on his bed. Then he grabbed the other, took out his bookmark and walked down the hall. He put on the floor in front of Mr. Barrow’s door. Then made his way back to his room. 

~~~

Jimmy sat down at the piano and started playing around, making up things as he went. Keeping it all in his head since he never remembered to buy some blank music paper to write it all down on — not that he even knew how. He been doing this more and more, bored out of his mind. Everyday was the same, nothing ever seemed to change. There was never anything to look forward too. At least he had this, at least he had music that floated around in his head. He’d die of boredom if he didn’t. 

“Jimmy play Look For the Silver Lining, or Ain’t It Fun.”

“No.”

“Jimmy, play something we know…” Ivy whined ignoring. 

“I’m not taking requests,” Jimmy bit out, angry because they’d made him lose his place. 

“No one will be playing anything. Ivy get back in the kitchen and see if Mrs. Patmore needs you to do anything. I’m sure she does. The rest of you, your break is over and I know you have things to do.” 

Jimmy groaned and slammed the cover down. 

“Watch the attitude, James.”

Jimmy wanted to scream at him to call him Jimmy, it was on the tip of his tongue and his mouth opened. 

“Jimmy, I believe you need to set the table,” Mr. Barrow’s voice rang out. 

All his rage turned toward Thomas, his jaw clenched as his mouth shut. He glared at the man and wished he’d just disappear and stop bothering him. 

“You heard Mr. Barrow,” Carson said. 

“Yes, sir, Mr. Carson,” Jimmy said, pointedly ignoring Thomas and he left the room. 

~~~

It was one of those days when it felt like the work was never-ending. He left a few things for a the morning, he was tired but he was also restless. The kitchen was empty when he walked into it. He went to fill the kettle, needing a cup of tea to go with a few cigarettes he’d been daydreaming about smoking. 

As he poured the tea music filled the room. It was Jimmy at the piano. Playing the same strains over and over again, now again with some variation. It’d taken Thomas a few days to realize what the other man was doing, but knew for sure now. He was writing his own song. Not only that but it was good. So, no one was the wiser. They all thought he was playing something new, something they just didn’t know. They had no clue he was creating it. 

Thomas did though. He walked into the servants hall and sighed seeing it was only Jimmy in there. If he realized it was just him and Thomas he would instantly leave. Thomas decided to be quiet as he could, he wasn’t above taken advantage of Jimmy’s turned back to enjoy the sight of him. To enjoy the music he was making. It was impressive, Thomas thought. 

He sat down in the rocking chair by the fire and lit his first cigarette. He inhaled on it deeply, eyes closed, listening to Jimmy’s song. It was a relief, after the long day, after so many hours. It was a relief to know he could enjoy this for longer than a few minutes. Time with Jimmy, stolen time, but time nonetheless. 

~~~

“You get him?”

“You broke it.”

“I’m not getting him, I want nothing to with him,” Jimmy snapped. 

“They’re you job, not mine. Get Carson if you don’t want to deal with Mr. Barrow.”

Jimmy glared at Alfred. “Are you nuts? Carson finds out I broke a clock, you know how much shite I’ll be in? Probably take fixing it out of my wages.”

“Well, I’m not taking the blame. And if you don’t want to be caught, you know you have to go to Mr. Barrow. He’ll cover for you.”

“Shut up.”

“Just saying…”

“Fine.” Jimmy squared his shoulders and started toward the servants hall. Alfred was right, he had to find Mr. Barrow. The last thing he wanted was to find Mr. Barrow. Let alone ask for his help. He didn’t want to owe the under butler, anything. Anything at all. It was uncomfortable and it made Jimmy feel weird. Every time Thomas covered for him, Jimmy wanted to punch him. Punch him and tell him to back off already. 

It was like Thomas couldn’t get the hint, nothing would or could ever happen between them. Jimmy wasn’t… He could never. Thomas lived in a dreamland, a twisted dreamland that had no place in the light of the real world. 

Jimmy knew he could leave Downton, but it was it was good job, in a good house and he had nowhere else to go. Things were changing and if he left, he wasn’t even sure he could another job in service. No he had to stay here, he just had to make sure Thomas knew to keep his distance. Stay away. That Jimmy had no patience or liking for the likes of him. 

Nevertheless when he got to the servants hall he was thrilled to find the man sitting in his seat, halfway through a cigarette. He looked up at Jimmy and Jimmy was thankful that Thomas’s schooled features stayed in place. 

“I need your help,” he said. 

Thomas eyes widened ever so slightly. “Do you?”

“I think I broke the clock in the library,” Jimmy spat out quickly. 

Thomas tapped out his cigarette in the ashtray and rose to his feet. He didn’t say word, he just indicated with his arms that Jimmy should follow him and started walking. Once in the library he went up to the clock and opened the glass door. Jimmy stood behind him, feeling jumpy and uncomfortable. 

“Hmm…” Thomas clicked his tongue. 

“Did I…”

“You wound it to tight…” Thomas’ voice sounded scolding. 

“Can you fix it?”

“I can.” Thomas said and he stepped backward.

“Well, aren’t you gonna…”

“Why should I?” Thomas turned and looked at him. 

“What?” Jimmy blinked at him. “But?”

“But what?” Thomas said. 

“Carson can’t know I broke it.”

“No, he wouldn’t like it.”

“So…” Jimmy stammered. He’ll cover for you, he always covers for you. 

“Yes?”

“Cover for me then, won’t you?” Jimmy spat out. 

Thomas’ expression got pinched and he looked away. 

Jimmy felt satisfied and smiled smugly. 

Thomas however suddenly pinned him with clever eyes and grabbed his hand. “You’re going to fix it. Under my supervision.”

Jimmy tried to snatch his hand free, but Thomas had his wrist in a firm grip and pulled him toward him. Jimmy tensed, was ready to yell bloody murder but he was pushed toward the clock. Thomas dropped his wrist and stood behind him. But no where near as close as last time. “Now… listen to what I say and we’ll have it fixed in plenty of time to start getting ready for dinner service tonight.”

Jimmy gritted his teeth and resolved to pay attention. To get it over with and not ever have to repeat it, again. Thomas was too close. Too close.


	2. Chapter 2

Jimmy walked into The Foghorn. Music filled the air and he immediately grinned. He glanced toward the dance floor, watching the dancers and itching to be one of them. But first a drink, then a girl, he told himself and he walked over to the bar and sat on an empty stool. 

He ordered an whiskey and turned on the stool to watch the dancers. His feet tapping against the stool to the beat of the song playing. He winked at any girl who caught his eyes and got a few good smiles back for the effort. Everything was perfect until he heard him. 

“Whiskey, please.”

Jimmy swiveled in his seat and found himself looking at a familiar and annoying profile. Thomas, he was out to even ruin his days off. “You following me?”

Thomas stiffened and then turned his head. He gave Jimmy a tight smile. “No. I’m… meeting someone here.”

There was something in the way he said that made Jimmy eyes go wide and he started glancing around, like he could pick out that kind by sight. He looked back at Thomas. “Are your starkers?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Thomas said. 

“If he’s…”

“Jimmy, it’s best you ignore me. You’re good at that,” Thomas said, paying for his drink. 

Jimmy watched him walk around the dance floor, towards tables that were on the other side. His heart pounding in his ears. He felt hot and weird suddenly, the thought wouldn’t stop ringing in his ears. Was Thomas really meeting… what happened to Thomas wanting him? That thought tripped him up, where had that come from? He should be thrilled, he doesn’t have to wonder if Thomas is — thinking — about him. It was uncomfortable and strange. This was good, Jimmy didn’t have to wonder if he’d wake in the middle of night with Thomas leaning over him. 

This was good. This was brilliant. This was a load off his mind, that’s what it was. Jimmy turned back to the bar and ordered a second drink. Then it was time to get his arms around as many pretty girls he could manage. 

~~~

Thomas sat down in the corner and nursed his drink. He gazed around a few times, despite himself looking for Jimmy. But wherever Jimmy was he was out of sight. And really that was a good thing, considering he was meeting Wyatt. Who he hadn’t expected to see for months. But it seemed business brought him near Downton so here he was sitting and waiting. Trying not to look for Jimmy on the dance floor. 

“Hello?”

Thomas looked up and a girl, probably around Jimmy’s age, was smiling at him. She looked pretty enough but she was looking sadly over her shoulder at the dance floor. “Hello.”

She blushed. 

“May I help you?” he asked. 

“My sister…” she paused and looked to their left. Thomas followed her eyes to another table. A girl was sitting next to another man and they were chatting away like they had no other care in the world. “She said if I wanted to dance, I should ask… so…”

“How forward thinking of you,” Thomas said. 

Her blush deepened. “I told her it was…” she started to turn back. 

He was about to lay into her for her forwardness, rudely embarrass her into fleeing his space, when suddenly he saw Jimmy on the dance floor. Fluidly gliding, in perfect rhythm with the music. Grinning down at the blonde in his arms and Thomas felt the urge to ruin that smile and before he knew it he was standing up and taking her hand. 

“What’s your name?” he asked as he pulled on the floor and into the dance. 

“Constance.”

“Thomas, and just this one dance.”

“Of course, thank you,” she said. 

He maneuvered it so they would pass right by Jimmy and his partner in a way Jimmy couldn’t miss seeing him. One pass and he caught Jimmy’s gaze for a brief fleeting moment. Blue eyes widened and Thomas smirked. They passed again and Jimmy’s grin was gone, yet their gazes met again for the single second. Thomas averted his eyes for the next pass, and on the third he looked up and found Jimmy missing a step or two having fallen off beat. He felt sublime satisfaction. “And now it must end,” he said to young lady, he’d already forgotten her name as the song came to a close. 

“Thank you, Thomas,” she said. 

But then Jimmy was between them. 

“How about a dance with me?” he asked her. “I can show you how it’s really done… You know like a real man.”

Thomas felt the punch. It was all it took. Words that bounced off him from any other source in Jimmy’s mouth were daggers. He hated it but he wouldn’t show it. “This is my friend, Jimmy…” right he’d forgotten her name. Thomas continued. “He’s a very good dancer, better than me.”

“Oh, I don’t about that…” she twittered.

“We aren’t friends,” Jimmy snapped. “But, like I said, I dance like a real man…” Jimmy said took her hand and tugged at her. 

“Well, one dance with you won’t hurt,” she said.

Thomas took that has his chance to flee the moment. Jimmy managing to take away his moment of glee at the other man’s expense. He felt a bit whiplashed. He’d only planned on one drink for the night but he flagged down a waiter and asked for another drink. Than sat back down at his table. He pulled out his watch and frowned. Wyatt was running late. 

He glanced toward the door until he couldn’t help himself and dragged his gaze to the dance floor. After a beat, Jimmy and the girl moved by and once again his and Jimmy’s gazes locked for a split second. Jimmy’s eyes were stormy and accusative. Another punch to his chest. 

“Damn it all,” he murmured just the waiter slid his drink onto his table. Thomas liked the timing, and he drank it down in one gulp. As he sat the empty glass down, he glanced toward the door and grinned as Wyatt walked in, grateful he hadn’t been stood up unsure if his pride could take it. 

“Sorry, sorry, Lord Hollywick had a harried day, so I’m made even later than he was… it’s good to see you Thomas.”

Thomas took in Wyatt’s dark features and forced himself not to compare them to more golden ones. “Same, same… it’s been while.”

“Too long,” Wyatt grinned. “Drink first?”

“I could do with another.”

~~~

“So, are you friends with Thomas?” 

“What?” Jimmy loosened his tie, he was feeling over heated having danced four songs in a row. 

“Thomas, are you two friends?”

“No. We work together that’s all.”

“Oh, where?”

“What does it matter?” Jimmy asked her. 

“I was just wondering if he had a girl?”

Jimmy laughed. “No.”

“Really?” 

Jimmy stared down at her and shook his head. 

“What? He does have girl? Oh, is he married!”

“What?” Jimmy laughed again, genuinely because it was ludicrous. 

“I just mean, I like him and I was hoping you knew him and could help. He seems shy.”

“He’s not shy. He’s not married. But he’s not, uh, available…” Jimmy trailed off. Why was he telling her that, he should send her back over there. Let her bother Thomas. What was it to him? 

“I’m confused.”

Jimmy didn’t hear her because he’d glanced over at Thomas and ended up doing a double take. A man was with Thomas now. Jimmy looked the other guy over, dark hair, stocky build, dressed like a valet — maybe? Must be how Thomas knows him… How does Thomas meet people? How does any of it happen? Is sneaking into people’s rooms in the dark his modus operandi? 

“Who is his friend?” 

Jimmy turned back to the girl. “Why are you still here?”

She blinked at him, huffed and walked away. 

Jimmy turned back to Thomas but then stiffened, realized what he was doing and turned around to stalk to the bar. He was done with dancing, he needed a drink, a good stiff drink. 

~~~

Wyatt was regaling him with the gossip of his house. Thomas drank it up, slotting away details and things that thought might be of use, might hold interesting value if he were to remember. One never knew, what information could prove helpful. Wyatt was a bit of a talker when he was drunk. He was worth Thomas’ time in more ways than one. He worked for a well-thought of house and some of the things Thomas knew could cause Hollywick and his family quite the scandal. 

“What is happening at Downton, you never tell me anything?”

“Don’t I? I’m sure I do…” he lied. 

“Though, I think I might be done talking,” Wyatt said. 

“You have a place?” Thomas asked lowly. 

“In the bed and breakfast. Small room, end of the hall…”

Thomas smiled. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Ground floor,” Wyatt said and stood up, going for his wallet. Thomas watched him put money on the table. “On me?”

He nodded. Wyatt always overpaid, it was good on Thomas’ wallet. He started through the thinned crowd toward the bar to pay up the bill. It gave a decent amount of time between Wyatt leaving, and his own exit that no one would think twice about anything. 

As he drew closer to the bar though he heard familiar strains of music coming from the piano. His glanced over to it and saw Jimmy at the piano, idly hitting the keys, messing around again with his own tune. Thomas smiled, he felt he had secret, knowing what it was Jimmy was doing. It was good to have Jimmy’s secret. 

“Play a real song…” someone shouted. 

Jimmy started playing something else, Thomas sighed, not liking the more popular music of the day. It was the song they danced too, Thomas realized…or rather two of them had dance at the same time with their partners. 

“Ready to pay up,” he called out to the bartender.

The music stopped. 

Thomas couldn’t stop himself, he turned toward the piano. Jimmy was staring at him from the bench. Odd look on his face and he stood up. “What you still doing here?”

“Leaving,” Thomas said. 

“Good.”

Thomas paid the bartender and turned around. 

Jimmy was suddenly next to him as they exited the bar. His gait uneven and Thomas could smell the alcohol on him. “So, gonna go kiss that guy in the dark?” Jimmy hissed. 

Thomas stopped moving and looked around them. “Jimmy.”

“Gonna wait for him to fall asleep first?”

“Jimmy…” Thomas warned. 

“What, afraid someone might figure out what you’re up too?”

“No one will… Go home, your drunk.”

“So will you?”

“Will I what?”

“Uh….” Jimmy looked around and Thomas realized how unfocused his eyes were. “What do you do? Hope he’ll be awake for it.” Jimmy started to walk off, his gait more unsteady than it been even moments ago. Not mention he was going in the wrong direction. 

Thomas grabbed his cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one, watching Jimmy slowly stumble in the wrong direction. He inhaled two lungfuls of smoke, breathing it out slowly. Deciding. Or he told himself he was deciding. He grabbed Jimmy by his arm, Jimmy tried to wrench it free but Thomas was able to hold on. He turned them around on the street and started heading back toward Downton. He’ll find a way to lie to Wyatt about why he never showed up. 

“Don’t touch me,” Jimmy yelled at him every five minutes and Thomas would let go for a few moments before he had to reach out and grab Jimmy to keep him on track. 

~~~

Jimmy’s mouth was full of cotton and his head was heavy. He moved as if in a fog as he got dressed for the day and made his way downstairs for breakfast. He had nothing but blurry memories of the night before. And absolutely no clue how he’d made it home. But he had so he decided to not worry about the why and how and not question it. 

He slipped into his seat next to Alfred and did his best to ignore Thomas across the table. It was always him doing his best to ignore him, it was Thomas’s fault. Why was he just always so THERE? As reached for toast he threw the man a glare and froze for a second. Thomas was looking right him and he looked worried. Jimmy scowled and moved quickly to focus on his toast. Which is when he realized he was feeling nausea. 

“James are you okay?” Anna asked.

“Fit as fiddle,” he lied with grin.

Anna nodded but didn’t look as she believed him. 

“Hard night?” Mrs. O’Brien asked.

“No,” he lied, or maybe it was true. 

“Came back quite late,” she continued. 

“You kept quite the late night yourself, didn’t you, Mrs. O’Brien?” Thomas asked.

“And how would you know?”

“Was out for a smoke wasn’t I, when Jimmy came back. We know he had an half day, what was your excuse for lurking around?”

“Out for a smoke, were you?” 

Jimmy swallowed the toast going down hard and he reached for his tea cup. Wasn’t Thomas out with that man? How was he back when Jimmy had gotten back? He turned feeling eyes on him and caught O’Brien looking away and felt his heart pound. What assumptions was she making? Did she plan to make more trouble for him? He couldn’t forget how her nose had been all in his business when he first got to Downton. Pushing him toward Thomas and then telling him to ruin Thomas. 

“Couldn’t sleep, thought the fresh air would help.”

“Did it?”

“Considerably,” Thomas said.

O’Brien said nothing else and Jimmy found himself grateful for that. But he felt her looking at him and looking at Thomas. He felt itchy, did she know they’d been to the same pub? How would she? What was she doing? He didn’t trust her, he knew know that was a mistake. One of the biggest he’s ever made. 

Soon the bells started ringing and that was the beginning of the day. But her Ladyship hadn’t rung yet and Jimmy found himself alone in the servants hall with O’Brien. And she was watching him. “Do you want something?”

“Thomas does like to cover for you, doesn’t he?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Jimmy said. 

“Don’t you? It’s none of my business, mind. But keep letting him do you favors and he might get the wrong impression again.”

Jimmy laughed. 

Her eyes widened.

“He’s not doing me favors,” he said and tried to tell himself that was the truth. He looked around to see if they were alone. “He’s not stupid, you know. He’ll never touch me again,” he hissed.

“Thought about that have you?”

Jimmy’s mouth opened and he stared at her.

She gave him a twisted smile, then jumped up when Lady Grantham’s bell rang. 

“James get to work,” Carson shouted at him as he walked into the room. 

~~~

“Help her Ladyship with her bath today?” Thomas asked as O’Brien passed him in the hall. He brought his cigarette to his mouth and enjoyed how she froze in place. 

“You think you’re clever,” she spat him. 

“I know I am.”

She stepped closer. “Then why did Bates do you dirty work?” 

Thomas grinned because she wouldn’t see his pain. Not her, never again. “You beat me… every so briefly.” 

“You’d never,” she said but he heard her doubt.

“You’d never wish me jailed, then?” Thomas sniped and walked away. 

“He’ll never want you, pathetic isn’t a good look on you, Thomas.”

Thomas stopped, turned and sneered. “Mr. Barrow, Mrs. O’Brien, do you good to remember that.”

She walked away. He knew she was down. She could snark and talk all she wished. She had no cards to play. It hurt though, he’d counted her on the very short of list of people he thought he could trust. Well, as much as one could trust a person like O’Brien. He thought he was on the right side of her, or enough on the right side of her not to be in her crosshairs. At least not the extent she went after him. She would have had him arrested. He wasn’t much of a believe in God, but he was grateful he found himself safe from that hell. 

The backdoor bell rang and he walked over to it and found a boy. “May I help you?”

“Note for Thomas Barrow.”

“Give it here then.”

“Was asked to wait for answer, sir.”

“Then wait,” Thomas said in irritation, he put his cigarette in his mouth and walked away the boy to open it. He wasn’t surprised to see it was from Wyatt. The words were benign but Thomas could tell the other man wasn’t happy to have been stood up. Thomas inhaled smoke on a frustrated breath and made his way back inside. “Be back in a moment,” he muttered to the boy. He quickly sent a note, explaining a run in with an acquaintance that kept him from their plans. He knew it would read as he’d run into someone he couldn’t afford to tip off in anyway. It was a lie but it was all that could be done. He had to keep Wyatt on his line as he was useful for secrets and other things. 

He exhaled a billow of smoke right into the boys face as he handed him the note. It’d been a long time since he done _other things_ and he regretted not being able to do so to a point. But it’d had be done, Jimmy would have wandered into a ditch without Thomas guiding him by the elbow. 

~~~

_8 Months After the Incident_

“She’s fast and mean. I don’t know what he sees in her.”

“Just that,” Daisy snapped at Ivy.

“What’s that mean?”

“You’re daft and check the carrots, don’t over boil them!” 

“He flirts with me.”

“He flirts with everyone.”

“He does not!”

“He flirts with Mrs. Patmore,” Daisy said in aggravation.

Thomas walking through the kitchen stopped short. “Who?”

“Jimmy,” Ivy and Daisy said unison. 

“Does sound like our Jimmy,” he said. 

“Do know what he sees in her?” Ivy asked him.

“Who?” Thomas said, feigning ignorance of Jimmy latest conquest. She wouldn’t last past the week, he reminded himself as if that mattered. She’d be replaced. 

“That blonde girl, with the short hair… she’s fast.”

“She would have to be,” he muttered knowing Jimmy.

“What was that?”

“I wouldn't have a clue what he sees in her,” Thomas answered honestly. 

“Why not? You’re a guy,” Ivy said.

“Not the guy for that question and are we all having a nice chat… Ivy the carrots, Mr. Barrow I’m sure you have better places to be than my kitchen,” Mrs. Patmore yelled coming in from behind Thomas. 

“Of course Mrs. Patmore.” Thomas walked out of the kitchen not remembering why he walked into it. Possibly because to hear what the girls had been arguing about because any gossip could prove useful in his experience. He liked knowing what was going on around him. 

A glance in the servant’s hall told him he didn’t want to go in there, seeing as how it was Bates and O’Brien at the table. He made his way toward the back door but heard voices coming from the boot room and slowed down to listen.

“You shouldn't say such things,” Alfred said sounding offended.

“Oh, yes I should… she was up for anything. And everything I did. Best night I’ve had in ages.”

“Out of wedlock.”

“Don’t be so old fashioned, Alfred. It’s a new age.”

“It’s wrong it is, and you don’t respect them.”

“Why would I?”

“Stop flirting with Ivy then? She isn’t forward, she’s a good girl.”

“Never,” Jimmy laughed. 

Thomas wished the reminder that Jimmy wasn’t at all like him would stop burning. It was ridiculous at this point how it kept hurting him but he couldn’t get it to stop. No rationale was working, no pointing out the obvious could stop it. He started to walk away but then Jimmy was out in the hall with him. They stared at each other for what felt like forever to Thomas.

“Were you listening?” Jimmy accused.

Thomas couldn’t bring himself to speak. 

“Good. Remember that, I’m not twisted not like you.” 

Thomas closed his eyes and wondered what the world would be like if he wasn’t twisted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta so all mistakes and possible tense shifts are my fault. 
> 
> Updates will probably be sporadic but WILL happen.


	3. Chapter 3

Jimmy absent-mindedly played the strain that wouldn’t leave his head over and over on the piano. Due to the Grantham’s entertaining it felt like he walked up and down the stairs twice as much as usual. His legs and arms ached a bit and he felt exhausted, but his mind was still very much awake. He hoped the repetitiveness might relax him, getting the feel for the music he was trying to get out of his head might help him find the next notes as well. But they weren’t coming. 

“Why don’t you play the whole song?” Daisy asked. 

Jimmy glanced at her and shook his head. He wasn’t about to tell her it wasn’t a song. 

“Do you not know it?” she pressed.

“Not exactly,” Jimmy admitted and went back to playing. 

“Well, I like that part, would like to hear it all…’ Daisy said before disappearing into the kitchen. 

“It’s a beautiful refrain.” Jimmy tensed at Thomas’ voice and turned toward it. He was sitting in the rocking chair, holding a book but he was looking right at Jimmy. Jimmy realized with Daisy gone they were alone. How long had Thomas been sitting there? It was uncomfortable, it was always uncomfortable. Now that Jimmy knew he was there, he wouldn’t be able to ignore him. 

He turned back to the piano but suddenly felt self-conscious about his song and started to play one of the songs he’d heard at the Foghorn. Remembering it easily enough, though making a few mistakes here and there. It was a simple tune though really and within minutes he had down correctly. 

“Isn’t that lively,” Anna said walking in with a cup of tea. “Where did you learn that?”

“Danced to it one night,” Jimmy said. “Don’t know the name though.”

“You just picked it from listening?” Anna asked sounding impressed. 

Jimmy nodded. “Lady Anstruther said I had an ear for music, I like to think I do. Always have loved it.”

“Quite the talent, isn’t it Mr. Barrow?” Anna said.

Jimmy frowned, why was she pulling him into the conversation. 

“More than you realize,” Thomas said, standing up as he did. “I’ll be turning in.”

What did that mean? Jimmy turned back to the piano but waited a few moments, until he was sure Thomas was out of earshot. Then he began to play his own music again, wanting to figure it out, wanting to find the song. 

“Another song from when you go dancing?”

“Something like that… harder to suss out.”

“It’s lovely,” Anna said. 

~~~

Thomas leaned against the wall having only stepped three steps up the staircase. Cigarette in his mouth and closed his eyes. Jimmy’s refrain was beautiful, magical he thought — he inhaled his cigarette and rolled his eyes. That was an odd thought, daft. But he couldn’t shake it. It was beautiful and he couldn’t understand why no one else had put it together. Jimmy was writing it. His talents were far more amazing than simply playing songs by ear. 

No one else seemed to notice how unique and special he was. 

“Except you, you fool,” Thomas exhaled a cloud of smoke and forced himself to walk away from the music. 

~~~

  
_11 months since the Incident_ t

Jimmy was in a foul mood. They were moving furniture around maids could clean underneath and it felt every time he turned around Thomas was right there. Too close, lifting things and pushing things next to him. Telling him what to do, ten times more than Carson. Ordering him about as if he was as stupid as Alfred.

He didn’t want to smell his aftershave, his didn’t want feel Thomas’ body heat and he certainly didn’t want to be told to be careful every time he went to move a table. He knew to be careful of the Grantham’s useless baubles that were just around everywhere so people knew they were rich and mighty. 

He wasn’t an idiot.

“Why is he even helping with this, this sort of work isn’t for his sort.”

“Carson told him too and Under Butlers do this sort of work.”

“I didn’t mean cause he’s Under Butler you git.”

“Then what did you mean?” Alfred asked looking at him confused.

“Bloody idiot you are,” Jimmy shook his head. “You know,” he said through gritted teeth.

Alfred’s expression slowly — painfully so for Jimmy — shifted from confusion to understanding. “Well… he is that sort, but he’s never struck me as you know girly.”

“Well he is that sort,” Jimmy mumbled and on cue Thomas walked in just as they were about to return the couch to its proper placement.

“I’ll help with that, be careful of the side tables…” he picked up in the middle. Jimmy ignored the fact that the weight became more bearable and scowled as they moved it back. He dropped it with a huff and started to move away.

“Wait, it’s not quite right…” Thomas said. 

Jimmy and Alfred exchanged glances. 

“Looks right to me,” Alfred said.

“No, no, it’s off center…” Thomas pointed to the furniture around it. “Got to get it right, Carson will have a heart attack if we don’t.”

“It’s fine,” Jimmy spat. “Don’t be such bloody pansy.”

Thomas eyes narrowed at him and Alfred gasped. 

“James!” Carson bellowed. “Language, one does not talk to their superior in that manner. There is no excuse at all. Apologize to Mr. Barrow now.”

Jimmy felt indignation rise up and he opened his mouth to say that was no way he apologizing to Thomas. Not at all. 

“James,” Thomas said at him with a clipped tone. “Why don’t you polish all the silver alone today as penance. That should do shouldn’t it Mr. Carson?”

“Very well… and get that couch righted in the correct position won’t you.”

“Yes, Mr. Carson,” Thomas said. “You two that side, we need to angle it to the right and push it forward a few inches.”

Alfred grabbed the couch next to Jimmy. “He’s always doing that, you know.”

“Doing what, standing too close?” Jimmy snapped.

“Covering for you, you didn’t even have to apologize.”

“I’m stuck polishing the bloody silver all night.”

“Still, he got you out of hotter water.”

“No he didn’t.” _Yes he did_. Jimmy scowled and tried to push off the discomfort he just couldn’t shake. Thomas got under his skin and he knew it. He kept trying not to let him but never worked. The other man was just so… THERE. It was impossible for Jimmy to ignore how he felt around him. Which was the biggest problem because he wasn’t sure how he did feel around him. Uncomfortable was how he put it but it was different than that… louder, undefinable. The man had kissed him while he slept, had made him question and fear things. He had every right to feel out of sorts by being near him. There was just a voice always nagging at him that it was more than that, that it was something different than that… 

_He did cover for you. Again._

~~~

_One Year Since The Kiss_

Thomas knew the date the minute he tried to lie down to sleep. He tried to close his eyes but he could’t seem to keep the closed. He could feel his heart beat in his chest. He sat up, putting his feet on the floor and his head in hands. He remembered it all too well. As if it was seconds ago. Every emotion that had propelled him out his door and through Jimmy’s.

He’d envisioned Jimmy awake when he walked through that door. But when he still stepped inside on seeing he was asleep. He stepped inside and looked. Looked at a beautiful man, he was bathed the moonlight — it’d been a full moon that night. How drawn he was to Jimmy took complete hold of him in that moment, he was acting on instinct. He acted on something primal within him in that moment. 

He truly believed he belonged in the room. He had himself convinced Jimmy wanted him. He was lost and pulled in by the beauty of the man. It wasn’t a decision, it was all action. He was kissing him, as if Jimmy was a sleeping prince. 

His prince. 

A year later now he laughed, holding his head, shaking it. Reality crashed all around him. He was bruised still from it all. Alfred, Carson, O’Brien. It all played out over and over. The last year of Jimmy’s scowls and barbed words. Thomas swallowed hard, feeling all the pain again and knowing how close he came to the end.

It would have been his end if he was sent to jail. It would have been his end if he’d been kicked out of Downton with no reference, with no place to go… Alone and homeless. 

_I can do alone. But not both._ The fear he felt was pure, raw and would never leave him. He reminded himself he had a home, he had a great position in the house. That fact he’d been somehow promoted after all the ugliness still dumbfounded him. Not enough for him not to take pride in it, not enough for him not to revel in it… but it was a surprise then and it was now. 

Lord Grantham was shocking with his decision from time to time. Thomas is unsure if any other Lord would have allowed a man of his kind to stay in position after a situation such as that — or stopped the police from arresting him for assault. 

Assault. He had, he knew it, he had assaulted Jimmy. He knew he wasn’t thinking but he can’t call that an excuse. At the time he allowed himself to believe O’Brien’s lies about Jimmy’s feelings but even then — even then that kiss was wrong and all Thomas could think was he was more broken than realized

Forgiving himself was out of the question. It wasn’t possible. He sighed and walked to his vanity and looked at his watch. 2 am. It was going to be long night, followed by a worst day. He prayed that Jimmy wouldn't remember the day, wouldn't realize its significance. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Smoke over sleep. He went back to sit on his bed and looked over at his pile of book. He wouldn’t be able to focus. 

“Let him not remember.”

~~~

“Nice day isn’t,” O’Brien said as Thomas walked into the servants hall for breakfast. He met her eyes and knew she didn’t at all mean it for the benign phrase it was. Woman had a mind for details, she kept things spinning around in her head. She was crafty witch and he wondered how they were ever allies. 

Ignoring her Thomas went around to his place between Mrs. Hughes and Anna. He lit a cigarette and sat back. He was going to get through this day with dignity, Jimmy wouldn’t recall it, the whole incident was probably pushed far into the back of his mind. Something to forget not remember. Not that that thought had worked for Thomas. But it was different. 

“I do think today is a special day, isn’t it, Thomas?”

He looked at her across the table and tried to put as much antipathy as he could in his gaze. “Just another Wednesday, I’d say.”

“Is it Wednesday…. Could’ve sworn it was Tuesday.”

 _Last year it was Tuesday you bitch_ … Thomas stopped himself from yelling it at her. What is she playing at? He sucked in deep on his cigarette and blew out a stream of smoke in her direction. _She wants to get under your skin, don’t let her._

“I think that’s enough of that,” Mrs. Hughes said rather sharply all of a sudden. Thomas felt her looking between him and O’Brien. Her gaze rather hard as it settled on O’Brien. “It’s a perfectly normal day.”

She remembers, the knowledge surprised Thomas. She remembers and he closed his eyes unsure how he feels about that, about it all. He wished it away, he wished he could forget. That this could just be another Wednesday for him. 

Jimmy appeared then and looked everywhere but at Thomas. But that wasn’t unusual. Jimmy avoided looking at him like the plague. Thomas sometimes felt satisfaction in the fact Jimmy often seemed to fail at it — he’d scold himself for taking that seriously. It meant nothing. It just meant Thomas was there in the same room. Sometimes it meant Thomas stood too close to him because there were times when Thomas felt a spiteful need to annoy Jimmy. Not today however, he thought and was relieved Daisy and Mrs. Patmore arrived with their food, Mr. Carson sweeping in after them. Everyone rose but for the briefest of seconds before Carson sat down with no ceremony. 

“They are leaving for Duneagle tomorrow, so we have full day of preparation ahead of us. Those of you going with them better make sure you all packed and ready for the trip by the end of the day. Mr. Barrow you are in charge of getting what is needed from storage.”

Thomas nodded.

“James you will work with Mr. Barrow, Alfred you will do your regular duties before joining them.”

Thomas thought wryly that Mr. Carson did not remember the date. 

“No,” Jimmy exclaimed. “I mean, I can do the regular duties then…”

“Are you arguing with me Mr. Kent?”

“Uh…” Jimmy stammered.

“Mr. Carson I can handle it until they’ve both finished with their footmen duties for the morning,” Thomas piped in not able to think of causing Jimmy irritation, not today. 

“I think that’s best,” Mrs. Hughes agreed.

Thomas shot her a thankful look before he realized what he was doing. 

Carson seemed to be looking at all three of him, his brow furrowed but his gaze stayed on Mrs. Hughes and he nodded. “Very well. Mr. Barrow should have organized by then it won’t take the three of much time to get it done before dinner service.”

Everyone started eating, knowing they hadn’t much more time before the bells started ringing and the day had to begun. Thomas found his gaze moving to Jimmy, even more than usual. Of course on the day he should be ignoring him far better than usually manages. It’s like he can’t help himself with trying regain the man’s good graces. It’s impossible task. 

Jimmy head was down, his eyes on his plate. Alfred talked and talked next to him and at most Thomas heard Jimmy grunt but never answer him. Lead was in his stomach the more he watched and saw. Jimmy remembered. Why hadn’t he shoved it away better? 

A bell rang and everyone turned to see who it was. O’Brien stood up right away as it was her Ladyship. “Well off I go… Jimmy I do hope you manage a good day.” 

“Slip on some soap,” Thomas snapped with little thought. 

She paled and turned toward him, her glare icy but her features were shocked. Thomas held her gaze and willed her to go be off and he hoped she stop trying to rile him and Jimmy up for the rest of the day. Chances were she might not be able to stop herself… she was rotten at the core. 

~~~

Jimmy sighed in relief when Thomas snapped at O’Brien. He was unsure what the hell soap had to do with anything but he couldn’t pretend he didn’t enjoy the fear that transformed O’Brien’s face. What was that about? Jimmy decided he didn’t care. He didn’t want people to remember what happened and he thought at first it was going to fine. No one would say anything, probably no one but Thomas would remember. He wished he could forget, he wonders if Thomas did? But then Thomas probably still wanted to kiss him, why would he forget that? 

Jimmy pushed that thought away and sighed. Mrs. Hughes knew, thankfully Carson seemed clueless as to why he wouldn’t want to work alone with Thomas. He never wanted to work alone with Thomas but there were times he couldn’t do anything about it. But it was not possible today, not possible at all. In fact he was going to try to blow off being in the same room with him all together. 

He risked a glance over at him. Just in time to watch Thomas lips wrap around a cigarette. Pulling in smoke with ease. He almost made smoking look poetic. Jimmy shook himself. It was too close to surface, he looked at him and thought of that night. It was worse now. It didn’t feel like a year at past at all. That should’ve been enough time to push away. It should have faded. 

Why were all the emotions bubbling under his skin as if it all just happened. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t right…. Jimmy got up from the table, sensing Alfred doing the same and followed him. It’d be a long day for many reasons, Jimmy wished Thomas was one of the servants going to Duneagle. But he wasn’t so lucky. 

“Wonder what that was about,” Alfred said. 

“What?”

“What Thomas said to me Aunt. Slip on soap?”

“Phrase isn’t… sod off, something like that.”

“She was just wishing you a good day.”

Jimmy glanced at Alfred. “Are you really that daft?”

“What? She was being nice, she can be you know.”

“When has she ever wished me a good day?” Jimmy shook his head.

“First time for anything.”

“Not with her,” Jimmy said.

“What’s that mean?” Alfred said getting defensive.

“She ain’t my aunt, and she’s right witch. She finagled it all you know.”

“What?”

“Never mind, I don’t want to talk about it. It’s done.”

“What’s done?”

“Exactly.”

“Still slip on soap, odd thing to say.”

“Whatever it means it ain’t about us.”

“Mr. Barrow is mean. He did it to hurt her.”

“Mr. Barrow did to shut her up,” Jimmy snapped. 

“About what?”

“Anything. Hate each other don’t they?” Why am I talking about him?

“Well, we better focus on work, today is going to take forever what with all the extra duties.”

Jimmy nodded and realized that maybe it was good thing. Work was a good distraction. 

~~~

Thomas looked up from the pile of cases he’d dragged toward the door. He’d have Alfred and Jimmy carrying them down when they arrived. Which, he looked at his watch, should be soon. If they were on schedule. Which Alfred often was not and Thomas expected Jimmy to duck having to do this until the last possible second. 

He decided to take a break, pulled out his cigarettes and leaned against a wall, next to the doorway. He closed his eyes and quickly battered away the series of images of him in Jimmy’s room. Jimmy in the moonlight. The feel of his lips on Jimmy’s. It looked insane from a year later, yet, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t do it again if sent back there…

 _Something wrong there_ , Thomas thought wryly. 

He heard footsteps but didn’t bother to stop smoking, he deserved at least five minutes, he blew out the smoke as Jimmy stepped around the corner and it went right into his face. 

Jimmy blinked it getting his eyes and he stepped back. “Didn’t see you there.”

“And now you do.”

Thomas felt instantly uncomfortable. This was unexpected. Where was Alfred? He was wishing for Alfred, the world would end. 

“Uh.. I thought Alfred be here by now.”

“He is not. He’s a slow git.”

Jimmy walked backwards a few more paces.

Thomas wanted to reach out and stop him. 

“Maybe I should…”

“I apologize,” Thomas heard himself say.

“What?”

“I never…” Thomas sighed and dropped the cigarette on the floor. Smashing it under his foot. “I never apologized.”

“Well don’t.”

“It was wrong and…”

“It was wrong?” Jimmy yelled in a strangled voice.

“It was against your will.”

“And God’s,” Jimmy snapped.

Thomas growled. “I’m not apologizing for being… I’m sorry for my actions.”

“Just don’t, don’t talk about, don’t ever talk about it,” Jimmy hissed. 

“You’re quite right. It’s over.”

“Right….” Jimmy stared at him. “I… it’s over.”

Thomas lit another cigarette, time seemed to drag on awkwardly slow all of sudden. A moment later Jimmy asked for cigarette while looking through the door and down the stairs. Thomas handed it to him, with his matchbook. Jimmy quickly lit and tossed the matchbook back. 

“Where is he,” Jimmy muttered.

The relief Thomas felt when he heard Alfred’s uneven gait on the stairs was immeasurable.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for the Fair.

Jimmy stared at the ceiling in his room. Thomas’ attempt at apology ringing in his ears. He couldn’t hear it, he didn’t want hear those words, he didn’t want to think about any of it. What happened or what lead up to it. He didn’t want to think about the direct aftermath either…. He felt used. 

It was more complicated than he liked to admit. He wished again, as he has many times, that Alfred hadn’t walked in. If only Alfred hadn’t walked in, then it would have remained quiet between him and Thomas. He is sure of it, certain to a fault… 

He would have yelled yes, he might have punched Thomas, but it would have stayed behind closed doors. In his own head. Keep it all in your own head, Jimmy thought. A wave of discomfort hit him and he moved where he laid, trying to relax his muscles, trying to find something close to comfortable. 

He hated that he listened to O’Brien. He’d let her play him and he wasn’t at all comfortable about it. It kept playing again over and over in his head. For a year he felt like a used toy when he saw her and she made her little cracks. Trying to get him angrier and get him riled up. 

Not that she had to try. She’d gotten under his skin with the idea people would think he was like Thomas he didn’t back off, if he didn’t make sure to say he wasn’t. 

And that was the problem. It was always the problem. So he’d shut down Thomas’ apology because he didn’t want to hear it, he didn’t want a damn apology. He wanted it to have never happened and he believed Thomas even agreed with him there. The situation was complicated and it’d been created by that bitch, Jimmy knew that… 

He almost didn’t blame Thomas at all. Except for when he did… Because the lines were crossed, the lines were crossed but Jimmy had let it go on. He’d let Thomas touch him. Again and again. O’Brien could only be blamed to a point there and that was the truth. 

Jimmy sighed. He wasn’t getting any sleep.

~~~

“Or two footmen,” Thomas said, unable to stop himself. If he was trying to get Alfred the right to go with him to Thirsk, Jimmy was invited too, that was just the way it was going to be. 

He got soon after that, positive that Mrs. Hughes had worked her magic on Carson and went about his duties, efficiently and properly. Thomas kept trying not to think about the conversation with Jimmy. He never should have said anything, what was he thinking attempting to apologize. No apology could fix that, no excuse could explain that…

Thomas knew he’d never fully understand what he was thinking because he hadn’t been. Had he. No he hadn’t thought at all. If he had been thinking he’d never have left his own room. He wished again and again he could take it all back. That he’d been smarter. That’d he’d listened to the doubt in his head telling him not to trust O’Brien. 

But they had been friends. 

Had.

That’d ended a long time ago now, probably longer ago than he realized. It hurt more than Jimmy’s barbs and his hard gazes. He’d truly thought O’Brien was an ally when in fact she’d been nothing of the sort. He kept dwelling on it, he needed to stop. 

It’d been a year. 

It felt longer and it felt shorter. It was something that he would always regret, it lingered in his head as his mistake. The mistake. The worst mistake of his entire life. Hope and romantic notions. He had to be sure to never let them lead him again, he couldn’t risk it. Somehow he’d been protected, somehow he’d been saved. But he if ever led with his heart and not his mind again, he’d likely end up in jail. 

Dead. 

Never again and maybe that was why the whole situation refused to leave his mind, refused to let him move forward and completely forget. It wasn’t O’Brien’s comments, it wasn’t Jimmy’s reminders of hate. No it was him reminding himself, to never never never give them anything to push him down. 

He would fight his corner. He would protect himself.

~~~

“Isn’t it a bit rough for Mr. Barrow.”

“Oh, I think I can manage,” Thomas just rolled his eyes as he walked away. Thomas was good at sports, he always had been. Cricket wasn’t the only game he was good at it. It might cramp up his hand, but he could manage a tug of war of all things. So, Jimmy’s remark rolled right of his back, this once. 

Oddly, Thomas was disappointed, Jimmy was capable of insulting him better than that — what a weird feeling, he thought. Maybe Jimmy hadn’t been trying, maybe it’d just been rout? Happened out of habit and he couldn’t think of anything better. 

Thinking about it though, Jimmy’s comments were slowly lacking bite, more and more. The last few weeks. Maybe it was about time, a year at passed. Maybe like Thomas, Jimmy was tired and wanted to just move forward. To something else? Whatever that could be, Thomas sighed. It would always be awkward, how could it be anything else. 

Can’t unring a bell. 

“All right, a quid on the Downton team,” Jimmy said. 

“That’s enough money down the drain.”

Jimmy was all confidence though and Thomas couldn’t look away. “One moment…. Mr. Tufton? You’ll join our team won’t you? As our Downton supplier?”

Thomas shook his head, impressed. The other team wasn’t, but that didn’t much matter to Thomas. He just stopped himself from laughing when Alfred ask Jimmy if he’d already seen him before he made the bet. Of course he had, Jimmy wasn’t stupid. And he knew it too, Thomas watched him swagger a bit before he wrapped his hands tightly around the rope. The rest of them followed suit and soon they were tugging hard for the win. 

They won. Thomas thought they did do rather well. He grabbed a beer off a tray and watched Jimmy full of cocksure swagger take his money from the very unhappy losers, who weren’t enjoying Jimmy’s confidence nor his swagger. He was proud of getting the win, he was proud of machinations to make it happen. It showed and Thomas couldn’t help it, he found it made Jimmy beautiful. 

“Good job, Jimmy,” he said as he and Jimmy found themselves in the same space, eyes locking for a second. 

Jimmy said nothing and focused on counting his money for a moment before he grabbed a drink from the tray. 

Thomas sighed and stepped backward a bit. Blending into the crowd. Everyone was dispersing in their own directions now and he found himself quite alone. 

~~~

There. He’s always there, Jimmy thought. Why was Thomas always so noticeable? Every time Jimmy turned or looked up he was looking into blue-gray eyes that he didn’t want to see. He didn’t want to be near him. He was tired, he was tired. He wished it could all go away and he had no idea how to make it happen.

He’d been disparaging him more the past few days, but stupid snarks, nothing really with any real bite. It was like he was compelled too but he couldn’t really put his… Heart was the wrong word. His heart has nothing to do with Thomas Barrow. 

Nothing. 

But he somehow kept ending up standing next to Thomas lately. In the kitchens, when he and Alfred went to Tufton’s shop with him. So Alfred could be an idiot about spices. Jimmy only went cause it meant getting out of more work, it meant getting out of the damn Abbey. 

He was thankful everyone was here at the fair. He was thankful for the crowd of the fair. He could escape Thomas now, escape him and not have to think about him or what happened. Or what he did and didn’t do. And all of the mess it is. It’s all wrong. 

It is wrong. Jimmy repeated it. He grabbed a beer and thought about winnings. He was going to enjoy his win and spend his money and have damn good time. 

Thomas Barrow be damned. 

~~~

It didn’t take long for Thomas to notice that Jimmy was drinking far too much beer. He was staggering around, flashing his money around. Aimlessly walking around. He tossed some cash at Daisy and Ivy. Then walked to get more to drink. The way he was wandering around seemed restless to Thomas. 

_Don’t pay attention to him. Just do your own thing, it’s a fair. Walk around, have some fun yourself._ Thomas tried but his eyes kept seeking out Jimmy, not understanding why he kept trying to look for him. The more Jimmy drank the more worried Thomas got and he found himself following the other man. 

It was like the night at the pub. He had to make sure Jimmy was safe. He was really too drunk to leave on his own. And Alfred was nowhere to be seen, Daisy and Ivy had disappeared into the crowd as well. Thomas was the only one around who could look out for him. 

 

~~~

The crowd was bothering him. He thought maybe his head hurt. Jimmy walked away from the fair and the noise. He just needed to be alone for a bit, was tired of people walking into him. Why weren’t they watching where he was going? He stepped under a bridge, thinking he might rest a bit in the shade. But then he saw someone walking toward him and felt frustrated. He wanted to be alone.

“Where do you think you’re going, m’laddo?”

“Get out of the way,” Jimmy said meaning to dodge him and walk by but instead he was shoved backwards. He looks at the guy, something is familiar about him but he can’t place it. 

“Take him,” he said. 

Jimmy felt arms grab him from behind and his head was spinning. It’s too fast and he was off balanced. How much did he drink? They’re going to take all his money? But they’re going to hurt him first? Fear had his heart pounding in his throat but he didn’t see away out of this. They’re going to beat him. But he fought anyway, trying to get free of the second man’s hold. But it was no use the first man was about to start railing on him.

“Let him go.” 

Thomas? Jimmy thought but that was crazy? Wasn’t it. The first man aborted his planned punch and the man holding him moved toward the voice and Jimmy was able to look. It was Thomas. It was Thomas. No. No. No. It filled his head. 

“Who’s going to make me?” the first man asked.

There was a brief hesitation. All Jimmy could do was stare. Fear and confusion rushing through him and sobering him up. He stared at Thomas. 

“I am,” Thomas said with clear conviction. Then as quickly as the two men had accosted Jimmy, Thomas rammed into the guy holding him, grabbed him by his shoulders and shoved him forward hard. 

“Run! Beat it, Jimmy. RUN! RUN!”

He staggered forward then froze for a moment. Thomas was suddenly the one being held. One of the man started punching him, again and again. Jimmy felt sick and he ran for it. He ran for it, pushing through the crowd, thinking he had to do something. He had to do something. But what? But what? He shoved through more people and then he saw Dr. Clarkson. An imaged flashed of them punching Thomas… Why had he run?

“Doctor, Doctor! You gotta come now, it’s Thomas, please!”

~~~

“What is going?” Mrs. Hughes yelled having heard Jimmy yell for Dr. Clarkson help.

“It’s Thomas…” Jimmy said again and kept running, leading them to bridge.

“Thomas?” It was Mr. Branson.

“What about him?” Mrs. Hughes asked again.

“He got into a fight,” Jimmy said, it was all they needed to know. That was all anyone needed to know, he thought. 

“Dear God!” Mrs. Hughes exclaimed.

They were at the bridge, the men were gone. Mrs. Crawley and Dr. Clarkson both knelt down to check on his wounds. He was awake, Jimmy found himself purposely searching out his gaze but the moment their eyes met he turned away. 

“What happened?” Alfred asked appearing out of nowhere.

My fault, my fault, my fault. His heart beat it. 

“Is there any chance of apprehending these men.”

“Not really,” Alfred said. 

They all looked horrified, Jimmy realized. Thomas was beat to hell and back. Why? Jimmy wanted to run, he wanted to run. Again. But he stayed he forced himself to stay. 

“Why did you get into a fight? It’s not like you?” Mrs. Hughes asked. 

Jimmy felt Thomas’ gaze on him and he turned to look. Edna and Branson both looked from Thomas to Jimmy and back. Thomas stayed silent and Jimmy felt guilt wash over him, it stung and he hated how it made him feel. He doesn’t admit what happened, he doesn’t explain how it was all his fault. He doesn’t mention he was drunk, that he was flashing the money they won — after he called in Tufton. He finally realized who the culprits were. Sore losers going after the cocky winner.

Except instead Thomas took the brunt of it. He covered for Jimmy. _He never lets anyone speak against you…._ He heard Alfred’s voice in his head. The urge run appears again, run from this, run from this like you always run. Like you did run. Run. 

“What have they taken?” Branson shouted.

“Every penny I had but it weren’t much,” Thomas finally spoke, pain evident in every word.

“Is anything broken?” Mrs. Hughes asked

“I don’t think so,” Dr. Clarkson 

“So, he’ll be all right?” Jimmy asked surprised to hear his own voice. No one answered. They decide to get Thomas home, Branson rushed to get the wagonette and Alfred rushed in to help Dr. Clarkson lift Thomas up. 

Jimmy watched. He watched. He stayed to the back. He stared at Thomas and then looked away. Everything was different. It was like the world changed colors, nothing made the same sense anymore. It was all askew and Jimmy didn’t know what end was up and what end was down. He wasn’t sure if there was an up and down. 

Thomas Barrow saved him from being the man in the mud, bloody and beaten.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My TL is not going to match up with the show at all in this chapter following the fair. And really I'm going in my own direction from the canon following this anyway. Some things will probably be mentioned here and there. But telling a very different from the show Thomas/Jimmy story. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy.

The servants hall was quiet. Matthew Crawley was dead. Hours after his son was born. The family was hurrying home from Scotland to be there for Lady Mary. Jimmy sat on the piano bench, not playing a note, and he didn’t want too. The rest of the staff was somber because of the death. He was somber because of Thomas. 

It’d been two days now, since the fair. Days of him doing his duties in a daze — doing Thomas’ duties in a daze — though it had impressed Carson when he saw Jimmy taking up the slack. For once in his life though he hadn’t done it look better than someone else. 

He owed Thomas.

Owed him. Jimmy ran his hand through his hair and sighed. He was still on duty, he was all thrown off. He stepped up to go fix it before Carson caught sight of the mess. The butler was on the warpath for propriety, he wanted everything _right_ to help the family in this dark time. Not they were even home yet, but that didn’t matter to Carson. 

Jimmy walked up the stairs, deciding his room was the best place to deal with it. He didn’t want prying eyes, not that anyone was paying attention to him. No one had a clue. No one knew what Thomas did for him. No one knew it that Jimmy couldn’t stop seeing Thomas getting punched by those men. No one knew that Jimmy never felt so conflicted in his life. 

He kept thinking of all the times Thomas covered for him. He knew them all. Every single time. It was a long list if Jimmy was honest. Little things like pointing to tiny details that only Carson would spot and lecture about. Reminding him when the wind the clocks. Giving him a refresher and covering for him when did it wrong. Not letting his temper get him trouble but speaking over him, shutting him up and letting him think the thought through. 

Jimmy walked into his room and sighed. He went to his mirror and grabbed his comb. For a moment all he focused on was calming down his thick hair into the proper part again. He finished and put down the comb, his eyes falling on the book. The third in a series of books Thomas left for him at his door. Jimmy picked it up and found himself truly questioning why the hell he’d gone along with this book giving arrangement Thomas initiated. 

_I never wanted to push it this far…_

Jimmy sat down on his bed. Dropping the book beside him. Every conversation he had with O’Brien playing out in his head. Her implying to stay silent about Thomas touching him. Don’t tell him to back off, you want to stay in his good graces — she knew what she was doing. Jimmy already knew that, though she never really understood. Or at least he hoped she didn’t… 

She had pressed the right button. He didn’t want anyone to think for a minute he was like Thomas. Because he wasn’t, he wasn’t….. Jimmy sighed and rolled his shoulders. He wasn’t like Thomas. 

But. 

Jimmy hadn’t wanted people looking at him and thinking that. Shortly after Thomas kissed him — Jimmy groaned, that was still unsettling and wrong. He’d been asleep. Thomas was forward, so forward. Jimmy was baffled by it, Thomas should’ve been terrified to be so… 

O’Brien proved that. 

She pressed that button, that he had to make sure no one thought he was like Thomas. Because with the exceptions of Daisy, Ivy and maybe the hall boys. Everyone knew about Thomas. Jimmy realized that after the kiss, he realized he knew himself he just never thought it — because it would bring up other issues he never wanted to deal with. 

Never. 

She hit on his fear. She hit hard. Maybe she saw it, maybe she knew, or maybe she thought he was just an average man and what man would want others to think he was… Like Thomas. 

It was hard to think about it. It was heavy in his head the subject. He feared it. Oh he did. But he never… He never thought about the cops, not past the his angry hiss at O’Brien that one night. That had born out of a discomfort only he could understand. 

Thomas confused him. He was imperious and at times cruel. He wasn’t known for being nice, yet all he’d ever been to Jimmy was kind. No man should be confident to touch another the way he’d been touching Jimmy. Jimmy gets it better now, Thomas was pushing it, he was pushing it on purpose. 

_And I let him. Doesn’t matter the reasons. I let him._

Jimmy wanted to fully blame O’Brien. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t take Thomas off he hook completely either. But he couldn’t ignore things he was avoiding anymore either. 

Alfred was right, Thomas never let anyone speak ill of him. Jimmy knew this. Thomas watched him, Thomas knew when he got too bored. Because the minute Jimmy found himself feeling antsy and like his brain might atrophy only having Alfred to talk with … A book showed up. 

Jimmy grabbed the one the bed again. He’d read it twice now. He wanted a third go, they were always interesting. He was unsure he’d like the topic of this one but he had learned. He had thoughts and things to say. 

Thomas talking downstairs about articles in the papers. And everyone else seeming to miss his points but Jimmy. Jimmy biting his tongue, because even if he had things to say. He wasn’t going to say them to Thomas. Even if Thomas would be the only one to get it, to understand it, to be able to with him.

Thomas talking about how they are both lonely. Jimmy had thought him forward then too but he couldn’t deny it. Jimmy stood up and walked out of his room and instead of heading back downstairs — he’d been gone far too long now. He walked toward Thomas’s room. 

The closed door felt like a wall. He stood there. He tried to bring up his hand and knock on the door. He tried. His hand went up and his hand turned to a loose fist. But he couldn’t hit the wood. 

In a hurry he made it back downstairs, just in time to be lectured by Carson for disappearing, and being given a list of things that must be done before the family arrived back home in the morning. At least it was something to do, maybe he’d be able to not think for a few hours. 

~~~

It was a rush when the rest of the family arrived. All of them tired, all of them mourning. Everything was somber and Carson was pushing everyone to make sure things were right and that they did not bother the family. That they were still, quiet and just there when needed. 

It was afternoon when Jimmy found he had a break, as he sat down Mr. Bates looked around the servants hall. “Where is Mr. Barrow, I haven’t seen him since we arrived?”

Jimmy was sure there was accusation in Bates’ tone. Thinking Thomas was shirking his duties or something and Jimmy felt an rush to defend the under butler that quite took him by surprise. 

“Oh, I haven’t told you?” Anna said. “He was in a fight, he has bruised ribs. Dr. Clarkson ordered rest.”

“A fight?” O’Brien said. “How in the world?”

“Like you care,” Jimmy said without thinking.

“And you do?” She said. 

“Wouldn’t mind the details,” Mr. Bates said. 

“It was at the fair?” Anna asked looking at Jimmy.

“Yeah…” Jimmy said, not wanting to discuss the fight. 

“Muggers?” 

Jimmy nodded. 

“He is well?”

“Mr. Barrow has some badly bruised ribs and face… so he is resting up. He’ll return to downstairs duties first, most likely. Yes, it was at the fair and it was very unfortunate.” Mrs. Hughes explained upon entering the room. “Now, Anna, we need to get both the nursery and the room ready for Lady Mary and the baby.”

“Yes, Mrs. Hughes.”

“I need someone to take food up to Thomas… James.”

Jimmy stared at her and tried to find the ability to say no, but he couldn’t find his voice at all. 

“I’ll do it,” O’Brien announced.

Jimmy side-eyed her as she left room. 

~~~

Thomas eyes narrowed when O’Brien walked into his room carrying the tray with his lunch. Her expression gave nothing away as she walked in and sat it down. Then he sat in the small reading chair he had in his room. She looked him up and down. 

“Come to express your concern?” he asked not believing it for a second. 

“Muggers was it?” She asked. 

“It was,” he said smoothly, it wasn’t even a lie. 

“Really?” 

“What else would it be?”

“Jimmy had an interesting expression when we were discussing it downstairs.”

“Subject of idle gossip, am I?”

“He seemed quite…”

“Happy I got my teeth kicked in?”

“No.”

Thomas winced as he sat up straighter. “Don’t start.”

“Oh. Like you’d fall for that trap twice.”

Thomas glared at her. 

She met it with an unreadable expression. 

“Why are you here? Really?”

“Oh there is a story, I want the real one.”

“Not getting it from me.”

“Mr. Crawley death was…”

“Unexpected,” Thomas stated the obvious.

“Just as a baby is born… house must be cursed. Children losing parents the day they arrive.”

Thomas bit the inside of his cheek, he wasn’t going to think about Sybil. He didn’t have the energy for those emotions. “What is it…death making you soft, Sarah?”

Her facade crumbled slightly at the sound of her name. “You didn’t tell Bates what I did, did you?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Unlike you I have no wish to see you fired, or possibly jailed.”

She looked away from him but didn’t move. Thomas reached for his sandwich and waited her out. 

“You deserved it,” she said finally. “You deserved it.”

Thomas felt stab in his heart at the sound of the words. He was so bad was he? He looked at the woman he thought a friend — as much as he ever thought of people as friends. “One thing I do admire about you, Mrs. O’Brien. You never back down from your decisions. No apologies when wrong, no backtracking on a lie when caught. I respect that.”

She stood up and walked away. 

Thomas felt relief as his door click closed. 

~~~

_Punch._

_Punch._

_Punch._

Jimmy flinched where sat, the memory of watching Thomas be pummeled felt so visceral. He dropped his spoon in his soup and startled. 

“Jimmy?” Anna gave him a worried smile. “You’ve been out of sorts all day? Are you okay?”

He stared at her. “Everyone is out of sorts.”

“I suppose… it’s sad day for this house. But… Are you sure you’re okay?”

No. He thought. Not at all. “I…”

“Yes?”

“It’s Mr. Barrow…” Jimmy trailed off, the memory of the punches Thomas took hitting him again. But it was pale in comparison to Thomas’s pain, isn’t it, Jimmy. 

“I wouldn’t think you were worried about Mr. Barrow,” Mr. Bates said from across the table.

“Yeah… well… I am,” Jimmy said and in the speaking of it, something snapped inside of him. It became perfectly clear to him what he had to do. “If you’ll excuse me,” he muttered to the table, knowing they didn’t care one way or the other about his leaving. He quickly made his way upstairs. 

~~~

Thomas’ head felt like pokers were shoved in it. But he couldn’t sleep. He picked up the paper and tried to pull it closer to himself. Maybe the words would be less blurry and not hurt his head more. He had to entertain himself somehow. O’Brien was the only person he could have called a visitor. Since then it’d been one of the hall boys bringing him food and collecting the trays. The kid was afraid of him, which did amuse Thomas, but it wasn’t all that entertaining past the few seconds the kid was in the room.

He hurt. He hurt everywhere. His eyes, his face, his shoulders, his ribs. He kept going over everything again and again. The decision to follow Jimmy, despite all the reasons he gave himself not too. He’d argued with himself the whole time he was following Jimmy not to follow Jimmy. He hadn’t won and he couldn’t regret it now. Though he thought maybe he should. He’d been beaten, quite well by those thuggish men. Quick hard punches, doing the job before they took the money he had on him. It hurt but he felt worse in his life. He had worse beatings in his life. No pain came close to the bullet tearing apart his hand. 

He held up his hand then and flexed. He looked at the scarring. It hurt too but not from the fight, from the tug of war pull. He’d gripped the rope too tight and now he was paying for it. It’d be stiff an hurt for a few more days. It was the least of his current injuries. This pummel probably wouldn’t leave any scars. 

Others had. 

There was a knock on his door. Thomas tensed up and lowered the paper. It couldn’t be the hall boy, maybe it was Carson come to lecture him. He hadn’t seen the Butler yet but he gathered from his conversation with Mrs. Hughes, Carson wasn’t happy with him at all. 

The door opened and Thomas felt a smile tug on his mouth. He forced himself not to allow it though. He stared at Jimmy standing at the door looking tense. “What you doing up here?”

“I just wanted to make sure there wasn’t too much harm done,” Jimmy walked forward, his body still stiff, looking ready to bolt. 

“There was enough harm done.” Thomas pointed to his face. 

“You were brave Mr. Barrow. Very brave. I feel badly. I shouldn’t have run off.”

“Oh, you should have. Otherwise, what was I bloody doing it for?” Thomas winced as he tried to sit up straighter. He wasn’t brave, what he was had nothing to do with bravery. 

“Were you following me?” Jimmy asked.

Thomas felt guilt creep up on him. He was always crossing lines when it came to Jimmy. First with the touching, then with the kiss. He knew was on the line of creepy. He’d followed him home from the Foghorn, telling himself he was looking out for him. 

“I like to keep an eye out,” he said the excuse out loud. “Could see you had a bit to drink, and so…” the lie felt wrong on his tongue. “Yes. Yes, I did follow you.” The truth. He’d follow Jimmy anywhere.

“Why?”

“You know why,” Thomas admitted and he braced himself, expecting Jimmy to turn and leave. Or worse yell at Thomas for following him, yell at Thomas for being disgusting — or what was it Carson said. Foul. 

Instead Jimmy grabbed the wooden chair he was standing near and moved forward in it, closer to where Thomas was lying on his bed. He sat down on the chair and leaned forward. He rubbed his hands on his thighs and was quiet for beat that felt like forever for Thomas. He sat waiting for the worst, waiting for Jimmy to get on with telling Thomas he was disgusting. 

“I can never give you what you want.”

“I understand that,” Thomas said quickly, it felt too quickly. “I do. And I don’t ask for it.” He wouldn’t, he’d never ask for that from Jimmy again. He didn’t want someone unwilling. His actions spoke the opposite he knew but he didn’t. “But….” A voice told him to shut up and not do it but his heart kept talking. “I’d like if we could be friends.” 

Thomas braced himself for the rejection and forced himself to look straight at Jimmy. Jimmy was nodding his head and Thomas held his breath. “Right you are Mr. Barrow…. If that’s all, I think I can manage it.”

Thomas let out the breath and it made a noise that sounded happy and odd to his ears. His heart started pounding and he wondered if this was all a dream but in case it wasn’t. “Thank you, Jimmy, thank you…” he said because it was the best gift of his life.


	6. Chapter 6

Jimmy fell into his seat at the table and relished the fact he was sitting. It’d been a long day. Carson seemed to be on the warpath and Jimmy had no idea why. Nothing was happening. Though it was specific kind of nothing. The house still felt like death. It was tiring, Jimmy decided. Because know one seemed to know how to behave around Mary. She was either quiet and cold, or cold and biting. There wasn’t much in between. Jimmy thought she looked more vacant than sad and he’d over heard more than one conversation about she wasn’t spending anything but a few seconds with her son. Jimmy didn’t find that so odd himself, probably one hell of a reminder. He rubbed his temples and looked at the time. Judging how much more work he had left after supper. All in all he was looking forward to stepping into Thomas’ room before he went turned in for the night. 

He shook his head a bit and picked up his tea cup, straight after Daisy filled it. Thomas would be on his feet soon, Jimmy knew he desperate to get out his room. It was going on two weeks and Jimmy knew his ribs were getting better but he still caught Thomas wincing if he got out of his bed, or tried to shift his position. His face was less bruised but now it was yellow and it made him look sick. It made Jimmy feel sick. The bruises, ribs were all his fault. And the more he talked with Thomas, the more guilty he felt. 

Before everything. Before he started to feel awkward about Thomas’ forward touches. Before Mrs. O’Brien turned him into her puppet. Before Thomas sneaked into his room. Jimmy had felt like Thomas was the only one in the house that he could relate to. Alfred wasn’t dumb but he was so simple and didn’t know how to have any fun. Ivy was pretty but dull. Daisy was okay but she didn’t like him and he wasn’t quite sure why. The hall boys were too young and a lot like Alfred. The maids were the same — though some were prettier than others. Anna was nice and all but again — boring. Mrs. O’Brien, he’d liked her, believed she was supporting his place in the hierarchy. But he hadn’t wanted to talk with her off duty. No Thomas was the one that felt like an equal when it would come to conversation, maybe making fun of the others and having a laugh. Someone he could sit back with and roll his eyes at the stupidity around him. 

He spent a year trying to tell himself he hated Thomas. But even then Thomas had given him stimulation. The books. Thomas had a knack for knowing just went to throw him one. It was unspoken thing, both knew it never meant their was a truce. There was just a book, something to feed his mind, before he got too bored and maybe did something stupid. 

All of this meant Jimmy didn’t find it odd at all that he and Thomas had fallen into an easy pattern of friendship. He poked into Thomas room when he finished up for the day and read him the paper. Though, by now Jimmy was sure Thomas’ could do it himself without causing his head pain. But it was a ritual, or something, it settled them in. Tonight though he’d return the last book Thomas let him borrow, because maybe it was time to stop totally ignoring the past as they forged forward. 

Something still hung in the air between them. Despite the ease. Jimmy wondered if that could ever be undone. That certain tension, or if all the trouble, mess and pain would never unknot completely. 

~~~

Thomas stood in front of his mirror. The bruising was starting to fade, Carson might let him serve the family in a few more days. Dr. Clarkson was saying another week to be sure about his ribs but he couldn’t stand being stuck in his room for another hour let alone a week. Moving could only be a good thing, at least that was a what his head was telling him. 

The knock at the door startled him, he turned and watched Jimmy walk in. That startled him too. It had for the past week, startled him, every time. This idea of them being friends. He wasn’t sure it could work, that it would work. But he wanted it. 

“I’m tired,” Jimmy said. 

Thomas frowned. “You need to come here…” was this all obligation?

“Not that tired, actually I feel too tired you? Wound up,” Jimmy grabbed the chair he always sits in and dragged toward the bed. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

Thomas rolled his eyes. He moved to his reading chair and sank into. Jimmy moved his chair again so they were facing. “I’m tired of that bed.”

Jimmy nodded. “You’re getting closer to looking presentable.”

“Why, thank you, Jimmy.”

Jimmy laughed and raised his left hand. “So, um. I finished this. Twice actually.”

Thomas looked at the book. The books. He felt a rush of guilt for some reason. Every time he left one, he’d felt like was over stepping a boundary. Jimmy hated him at the time. “I… you looked bored and…”

“I was. Every time one showed up. Think that was the only reason I didn’t…”

“Go to Carson,” Thomas finished.

“Carson? Why would I?” Jimmy shook his head. “No, I pictured coming here, opening the door and throwing them at your head.”

Thomas laughed. “I appreciate you didn’t…”

“I wouldn’t… Alfred went to Carson, you know.”

“I know.”

“I wouldn’t’ve… I never wanted to. It was _her_ , you know.”

Thomas reached for cigarettes. A wave of hurt at O’Brien’s betrayal. He still struck him hard she’d gone so far. She felt no guilt for it either, he was sure given their last conversation. “She wanted to hurt me.”

Jimmy shifted his seat. “I um… accept your apology.”

Thomas looked up lighting his cigarette. “What?”

“Your apology… the one you attempt to say before the family left for Duneagle.” 

“Oh.” Thomas laughed. “That…” he inhaled on the cigarette. “I meant it, Jimmy.”

Jimmy nodded, then he leaned forward and put the book on the table by Thomas’s chair. He leaned back, tilting the chair back a bit with his body weight his eyes closing. Thomas took advantage of his closed eyes to just look at him. He was handsome to the point it hurt Thomas’ eyes. He closed his own and when he opened them Jimmy was looking right at him. 

“Got another book?”

Thomas nodded and stood up. Wishing his body would protest so much, but he held back a wince and walked to his small bookcase. “Come over, you can pick one out yourself. Did you like the books?”

“I did. I might not have picked them out myself though. The one about the war was… hard.”

Thomas nodded.

“But I kept reading it, it was… good to see things I felt on the page.”

Thomas nodded. “I felt the same.”

“Good not to feel alone…” Jimmy said and trailed off pulling a book off the shelf. “Agatha Christie?”

Thomas grinned. “Light reading, I like a good mystery.”

Jimmy nodded and started flipping through the pages, towards the end.

Thomas grabbed the book out of his hands. “What are you doing?”

“I want to know who did it.”

“Where is the fun in that? You’ve got to read it and figure out the clues.”

“Are you clever enough to?”

Thomas smirked at him and handed over the book. “Borrowing mysteries means you cannot read the end first. I want your thoughts as you read too — if that’s okay?” He felt utterly unsure, did he have right to make any sort of demands. 

“Deal. I’ll figure it out.” Jimmy tucked the book under his arm. “I am tired…”

“Goodnight, Jimmy.”

“You too, Thomas,” Jimmy said. Thomas liked his name on Jimmy’s tongue and it too kept startling him. It was good though, this was all, good. It couldn’t be true. 

~~~

_Three Days Later_

Everyone was already at breakfast when Thomas walked into the servants hall. He looked immaculate except for the fading bruises and cut on his lip. Mr. Carson stood up when he saw. “Mr. Barrow, it nice to see your return.”

“It’s good to be back, Mr. Carson.”

Jimmy looked at the empty sit to his left. “Mr. Barrow, sit here.”

Thomas looked right at him and Jimmy saw what was becoming a familiar sight. A look of surprise, like he forgot they were friends now. Jimmy cocked his head toward the seat. “Sit.”

“Thank you… James,” Thomas said and Jimmy scowled at the name.

As Thomas walked around the table, Jimmy realized the whole table had gone quiet. Thomas settled into his chair and looked up at the table as a whole. “Do I look that bad?”

“No, of course not,” Anna said but her eyes darted to Jimmy. 

Jimmy grabbed the toast plate, his plan to simply bring toward Thomas so he could take a piece. It was as he raised it off the table he remembered Thomas’ offer toast — a silent plea of hoping all could be okay. Jimmy swallowed and decided this was another way to maybe untangle that knot that was around them even more. So he met Thomas’ eye and raised an eyebrow. Thomas smirked and took a piece of toast. 

“What are you doing?” Alfred asked from across the table without even an attempt to be silent. 

Jimmy looked around the table then and realized everyone was looking between him and Thomas. Thomas was lighting a cigarette and when Jimmy eyes landed on him again he gave near imperceptible shrug. 

“Nothing,” he told Alfred. 

Alfred looked between him and Thomas almost comically. Jimmy swallowed a laugh and decided to ignore the stares and eat his breakfast. Thomas was doing the same, eating between puffs of his cigarette. 

“Are you up to serving at breakfast, Mr. Barrow?” Carson asked. 

“Yes, Mr. Carson.”

“I have some errands that need running, so you will run it in my stead.”

Thomas nodded with a small smile. 

“This missing the daily drudgery isn’t going to last you know,” Jimmy said.

“Anything is better than my ceiling and walls.”

“Incentive not to get into fights in the future, Mr. Barrow,” Bates said. 

Jimmy eyes swung to Bates. 

“I suppose it is,” Thomas said. 

Jimmy felt uncomfortable. No one knew why Thomas was in that fight, no one knew how he ended up the target of those muggers. 

“Important not to act bigger than ones britches.” Bates added and sounded way too superior to Jimmy’s liking. 

“It wasn’t his fault,” Jimmy said. 

“Even so,” Bates said. 

“Mr. Bates enjoys giving us all his wisdom — whether we need it or not.” Thomas said and he looked at Jimmy. And Jimmy saw the no in his eyes, that he shouldn’t say anything. But guilt was gnawing at him and he had to look away from Thomas and at his toast. 

“Some of us need it,” Bates said. 

Jimmy gritted his teeth and muttered. “Sanctimonious sod,” under his breath. 

He heard Thomas chuckle before he took a swallow of his tea.

~~~

“Not worried then?” Mrs. O’Brien said as Jimmy passed her on his way back up stairs after breakfast service had finished. He had to collect the plates and silver. He kept walking hoping ignoring her would shut her up. 

“Not worried then?” she repeated and he heard her following him.

“Worry?”

“Seems a bit of a turn, being friendly with Mr. Barrow.”

“I came to my senses.”

“Senses?” Mrs. O’Brien laughed. “People are going to talk, going to wonder — 

_If you’re like him_ … the fear of that rolled through Jimmy. Hitting him hard again as if he’d forgotten it. But he hadn’t forgotten it. It’d been with him for over a year now. Every day making Thomas this huge presence in his days. He was bothered by Thomas more than he wasn’t in that year. And this last week or so — that was gone. That was gone because Thomas was just Thomas. His friend. 

“Leave it alone,” Jimmy told her and picked up his pace. 

“You’ll regret it.”

~~~

“You’ll regret it.”

“He probably will,” Thomas said leaning against the wall. 

“You will,” she said to him. “You can’t help yourself, Thomas. You’ll touch and then where will you be?”

“Nothing would please you more,” Thomas said. “Me in jail? Life ruined.”

“It would have nothing to do with me,” O’Brien said and walked away. 

Thomas sighed and looked up the stairs. He wasn’t sure what to think. He’d seen Jimmy turn ashen when O’Brien reminded him people might think he was like Thomas. Issues didn’t go away, they didn’t become nothing because people wished they could. Thomas was wrong, revolting, foul; both he and Jimmy grew up knowing that, being told that, living that…

Only Thomas knew it was wrong it had to be because it all felt so right to him. 

Jimmy knew he love women and loving a man was too far out of his knowledge to comprehend. 

Thomas sighed, he couldn’t expect someone not like him to be able to know him. Care about him. To be his friend. But Jimmy said they would be and his actions kept it up. But today was the first day the rest of house saw they’d turned a leaf. Would it last?

“Mr. Barrow.”

Thomas really hoped Bates wasn’t an omen. “Yes, Mr. Bates?” 

“I wouldn’t trust James.”

“Why?” Thomas asked, feeling prickly, what did Bates know about Jimmy.

“He’s boy, Mr. Barrow. Easily manipulated.

“I think he learned his lesson.”

“As you have?”

Thomas refused to look away from him. “Do you have point?”

“I am saying be careful, Thomas.”

“Pretending you c”are, I’m touched.” Thomas walked away. He was going to be careful. He wasn’t going to put on faith, he didn’t believe in that anyway. He wasn’t going to expect Jimmy to remain friendly. It was going to go day by day. He wasn’t going to get complacent in the — this friendship — because it would end. 

All things end for Thomas. 

~~~

“You couldn’t stand him just last week,” Alfred said piling silver onto his tray.

Jimmy grabbed some crystal glasses. “You were the one to tell me stop being hard on him.”

“Is that what’re doing?”

“Look, he’s an okay guy.”

“No one says that of Mr. Barrow.”

“He is, they should,” Jimmy pushed away the images of Thomas being punched. “Things changed.”

“Do you feel sorry for him, after the mugging?”

“No,” Jimmy shouted. 

Alfred studied him. “I’m missing something.”

“Understatement,” Jimmy chuckled. 

~~~

Thomas grinned. Music was filtering through the doors of the servants hall as he made his way downstairs. He was exhausted. He hurt in ways he didn’t know he could and he knew it all had to with his bruised ribs. But he could move and he hadn’t felt like he’d topple over standing over the dinner. He felt for Lady Mary, Jimmy hadn’t exaggerated how vacant and distant she seemed. It was like she’d been hollowed out from the inside, something sucked everything she was out of her. 

He remembered the sharp pain in his chest he felt when he learned of Edward Courtenay’s suicide. He’d felt numb for days afterward, his infauation for the man causing him both intense pain and anger. Sybil’s death had left him numb for a long time, it was like a light been turned out and he knew the flame could never be lit again. 

Mary Crawley loved a man who loved her back. That pain must be impossible Thomas thought. He wondered what that love felt like, if he had it, he wonders if could live without it having known it? Thomas shook himself, he’d never know. What ifs never have done him any good — he walked into the servants hall and felt that point hit home as he saw Jimmy at the piano. 

What if he does feel things for me? That had driven Thomas to mad act. No he was better off without what ifs. He saw the paper discarded on the table and picked it up and sat down in the rocking chair. Jimmy’s song was as beautiful as he remembered, he hadn’t heard it in weeks. The refrain was a bit longer now and the new notes seemed to fit with the questioning tone Jimmy was composing. 

As he opened the paper, the music stopped and he dropped the paper down and looked right into Jimmy’s dark blue eyes. Jimmy held his gaze and his eyes dipped to the paper. “Going to read on your own now?”

Thomas laughed. “What, you want to come read it to me later?”

Jimmy shook his head. “Got used to it.”

“We didn’t last night.” Thomas pointed out, though last night their conversation had taken an important turn. “Did you start the book?”

“Got one page in before I passed out. But it’ll get read.”

Thomas nodded and started to go back to the paper, but Jimmy was just sitting at the piano and didn’t look like he planned to keep playing. “Keep playing.” It left his mouth before he thought it through.

Jimmy grinned though. “Any requests?”

Your song. Thomas swallowed it down. That was too intimate. Jimmy never spoke about composing, he never really talked about music at all. Thomas should ask questions about it. It was important to the other man that was for certain. But not about his own songs, not about them. No he can’t ask Jimmy to play that song. He hasn’t the right. “Surprise me.”

Jimmy nodded and started to play something that was familiar. Jimmy was well into the middle of it before Thomas realized it was something that had played at the Foghorn the night they’d both been there. He smiled a bit and started to read the paper, as Jimmy rotated through the newest songs he knew. It wasn’t until Thomas was nearly done with the paper that he heard the familiar strains of Jimmy’s own song. 

He reread the paper just to listen to it longer.


	7. Chapter 7

“Mr. Barrow, if I could have a minute of your time?” Mrs. Hughes asked, appearing out of her office as Thomas walked by the door.

Thomas was heading up for the night, newspaper in hand due to it having an article he wanted to show to Jimmy. He turned toward her and nodded. She held a concerned and determined look on her face. He frowned as he followed her into her office. She closed the door behind him and motioned for him to sit. Thomas followed suit and tried to figure out if he’d done or said anything enough out of line to get a lecture from the older woman. Mostly his was using his acidic nature towards O’Brien these days and that meant no one paid it much mind. 

“I felt we should have a little chat,” Mrs. Hughes said. 

“About what, Mrs. Hughes, not aware I have done anything to cause offense.”

“What? Oh, no, no. I just thought I should… well. I wanted to caution you about James.”

“Whether you believe me or not I am not going to do anything untoward, Mrs. Hughes,” he snapped out defensely.

“You? Oh, no Mr. Barrow it is not him that I am concerned about.”

Thomas stared at her blankly. 

“You two seem to be getting along now, which is a relief after the past year. However it is all quite sudden and I do want to be cautious. He is flirt and quite vain…”

“What are you saying, Mrs. Hughes. You think he’ll wile me with his charms?” 

“Not on purpose mind you…Well, you did have feelings for him and dare I say still do… Is this _friendship_ really in your best interest?”

“You’re concerned about me?”

“Well. I suppose that I am. Yes,” Mrs. Hughes said. 

Thomas wasn’t sure which one of them was surprised more, he saw it in her eyes as much as the concern. Which shocked him, he wasn’t sure what to do with it, he felt trapped in his skin and in the room. “I… appreciate the concern, Mrs. Hughes. But I have no worries in regard to Jimmy.”

“That is what worries me…. He might take advantage of your good graces.”

“He wouldn’t.” 

“Wouldn’t he? He’s ambitious and he likes being the center of attention. He likes the notoriety of being first footman. Having you as an ally would be quite advantageous for him.”

“Yes. It would,” Thomas said. “And he should enjoy the notoriety of his position; if he has ambitions he wouldn’t be any different than me, now would he? Don’t make the mistake in thinking I am not his ally.” Thomas stood up and walked to the door but he paused. “Thank you, Mrs. Hughes but really there is nothing for you to be concerned about.” 

“Very well, I feel better still for saying it.”

Thomas gave her a small smile before stepping out of her office. He rolled his eyes, tucked the paper under his arm and lit a cigarette. Smoking it quickly as he walked up to the servants attic. He went straight to his room. Dropped the paper on the bed. And started to shed his livery. It felt like a cage as it always did the longer a day wore on. He pulled at his bowtie first, pulled out the starched collar and started on his buttons. 

He replayed the conversation with Mrs. Hughes in his head. He wasn’t sure what to do with that, or anything she said. He sighed and yanked off his shirt and untucked his vest. There was a knock at his door and then it opened. Jimmy walked in, in nothing but his vest and sleep pants. His hair was loose curls and a bit wet. He must have had a bath. Thomas forced himself not dip his eyes up and down his body. It wasn’t getting easier to that, as he had hoped it might. Maybe it was too innate an instinct for him? 

“You took awhile, Carson load extra work on you?”

“It was a bit of long day, I felt behind. Then Mrs. Hughes wanted to talk.”

“Mrs. Hughes? About what?”

“You,” Thomas shook his head. 

“Me?”

Thomas nodded and looked at Jimmy. There he was standing in Thomas’ room like it was nothing. Like it was a daily and normal occurrence. It was daily at this point, Thomas realized. Not a day had gone by that they didn’t chat — even if only for a few minutes — at the end of the day in Thomas’ room. Normal… normal wasn’t something Thomas thought he ever find it. 

“She was concerned that you might encourage…” Thomas shook his head. “Never mind why… she was concerned. It was disconcerting.” 

“That might what?” Jimmy said. 

“Lead me on…” Thomas held up his hand. “She thinks you did, before —“ they weren’t supposed to discuss it. 

“Oh. Suppose I did, though, huh?”

Thomas stared at him. “No.”

“Thomas… I kept letting you touch me, even if it was…”

“Highly uncomfortable?”

“I wouldn’t say highly…” Jimmy said quickly and then looked away. “I know I flirt… with everyone. Caught myself winking at the Dowager today, she caught me doing it too. If looks could make you wish for molten lava to swallow you whole.”

“Did Carson see that?” Thomas asked trying not laugh.

“No. Thank God.”

“Dowager could probably use a wink now and again,” Thomas said letting the laughter out. “The Dowager?”

“Like I said… I flirt, Mr. Barrow.”

“And I know that… it means little.”

“No, not really. Don’t tell Ivy, though. Might ruin my fun.”

“She is who Mrs. Hughes should look out for,” Thomas said.

“I’m a dangerous man,” Jimmy laughed and sat down on Thomas bed.

Thomas looked at him and thought he certainly was a dangerous man. 

“What was it you wanted to show me in the paper? I read it you know.”

“Only the most prominent articles. This is in the back. Bit of an advertisement really but interesting. I thought it might appeal to you.” Thomas walked over to his bed and picked up the paper, flipping it open straight to what he was talking about. 

Jimmy took the paper. “Which one am I to read?”

“This one,” Thomas pointed at and then grabbed the chair, pulled toward his bed and sat down. Since his bed was occupied. 

“Open music night?” Jimmy looked up at him. “New pub in Thirsk is doing open music nights?”

“Thought you could do that… play,’ Thomas said. “First one is on your day off.”

“Is it,” Jimmy looked back at the paper. “Don’t know if I could do that. Play for people.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow at him. “You played at the Foghorn.”

“I was drunk.”

“You play downstairs.”

“That’s different.”

“You’ll do it,” Thomas said. “Have a beer or two first. You should do it.”

“Isn’t that your day off too?” Jimmy asked.

Thomas nodded.

“Then you’re coming then, right?”

Thomas tensed. 

“Or do you have… plans?” Jimmy asked eyeing him.

“Plans?” Thomas questioned, though he knew bloody well what Jimmy was asking.

“You know… plans.” Jimmy’s cheeks reddened and he looked away. 

“No. Not really…” Thomas cleared his throat. 

“So, you do then?”

“Nothing solid.”

“Is it that guy? The one from the Foghorn?”

“Wyatt? No, no…. He won’t be in the area again for along while.”

“So… you were.”

Thomas stood up, the chair scrapping hard on the floor under him. “Jimmy, I really think it’s best we do not discuss….my world.”

Jimmy looked up at him and Thomas felt like he was being stared into and looked away. 

“Yeah, yeah, okay. You’re right.”

Thomas felt tension fall from his shoulders. 

“But since you don’t have anything really planned. Come. If I’m going to play, I want someone in the audience I know will like it.”

“Plenty will like it Jimmy,” Thomas said. “You’re very good, you know.”

“Don’t know about that…” Jimmy shook his head.

“Quit being modest,” Thomas said.

Jimmy looked up at him his eyes bright. “Well, I do have a knack for it all.”

“A knack,” Thomas echoed. 

“Well, I’m knackered,” Jimmy stood up. “Good night, Thomas.”

Thomas nodded and watched him leave his room. He closed the door behind him. Thomas looked back at his bed, at the spot where he’d been sitting and really wished hadn’t enjoyed Jimmy Kent being on his bed so deeply. 

~~~

Jimmy froze as the crystal decanter slid off his tray. It flipped in the air, it’s arc seemingly slowed by his horror. It descended and hit the the stairs right below him, shattering into a million pieces right before his eyes. He clutched the tray in his hands, begging the rest of the crystal to stay in place and closed his eyes trying to catch his breath. 

Carson was going to kill him. 

Anna appeared suddenly, her heart on her chest. “I heard a crash. Oh, my…” she looked at the shards of crystal and Jimmy standing there. “Are you all right?”

“He’s going to kill me,” Jimmy said. “It just slid right off, I don’t know what happened.”

“Don’t worry, accidents happen. Get the rest downstairs and fetch the broom.”

Jimmy nodded and walked down the stairs at much slower a rate than he usually did, afraid the rest of the crystal might try to kill itself. He made down and put the tray down. Carson appeared out of nowhere.

“This the last of it?”

“Yes, sir…” Jimmy said, stepping backwards hoping to get to the broom first and tell Carson later.

“Where is the crystal decanter?” Mr. Carson asked. 

How does he do that? Jimmy sighed. “It slipped off my tray, I’m getting the broom now.”

“It SLIPPED?”

“Yes, sir. Anna’s waiting on the stairs. I need to get the broom.”

Carson stared at him and straightened his spin even more so than usual and looked him up and down. In a way that made Jimmy feel like nothing and he knew damn well he wasn’t nothing. He straightened his own spin in retaliation. “It was an accident.”

“You mean you were careless. Very well, clean it up and you can explain what happened to it at Dinner service.”

“Yes, Mr. Carson.” Jimmy rushed off to the closest closet and grabbed a broom, a pan and a canister for the broken glass. He raced up the stairs to find Alfred carefully treading on shattered decanter and Anna sitting on a stair to the side, with a heap of glass shards in her apron. 

“There you are,” Anna said.

“Mr. Carson caught me…” Jimmy sighed. “Here,” he held the canister so Anna could slide what she had in her apron into the cansiter. 

“Do you have this? Lady Mary is probably wondering where I am?”

“Yes, Anna. Thank you,” he said. 

“How mad was Mr. Carson?” Alfred asked, startling Jimmy.

“Why are you still here? He was mad, don’t dawdle.”

Alfred looked at his tray of silver and then rushed down the stairs. Jimmy almost called out for him to slow down but he wasn’t Mr. Carson. Thank god. He regarded the steps and sighed. It looked Anna had gotten a lot up when you looked at her apron. But she hadn’t. He went up a step seeing the crystal sparkling against the dark steps. He started sweeping there and grumbled about his dumb luck. 

“What’s this?” Thomas asked appearing behind him.

“Bloody,” Jimmy swore and turned. “I didn’t hear you coming.”

“Apparently not,” Thomas laughed. “What happened?”

“Decanter flew off my tray.”

“Flew, did it? Like a bird?”

“Yes. It flipped in the air, was right show off that decanter.”

Thomas’ mouth quirked and he looked to side. Jimmy smirked. Thomas wouldn’t laugh while on duty but Jimmy kept trying anyway whenever the met on the stairs or upstairs. 

“Well, better get it cleaned up right good. Does Mr. Carson know?”

“Yes.”

“Will you be explaining at dinner service?”

“Yes.”

Thomas nodded. “You got off easy then, rest assured of that.”

Jimmy scowled. “It was an accident.”

“Of course it was… but Mr. Carson doesn’t believe in accidents.” Thomas smirked and started down the stairs. 

Jimmy knelt down to knock the shards into the canister. Somehow one his hand slipped and he felt an edge tear into his skin with a sharp sting. “Shit, ow..” He grimaced and popped his finger into his mouth. 

“What happened?” Thomas was back having not gone far.

“Cut me self… of course.”

“When it rains it pours,” Thomas said and he grabbed Jimmy’s hand. 

Jimmy looked up and met his eyes the second Thomas’s fingers closed around his wrist. 

Thomas froze but then he blinked and carefully controlled expression formed on his face. Jimmy wondered at Thomas’s ability to control his expressions, right down to his eyes. He envied that. His anger always managed to show on face, even when he wished it didn’t. 

“Just gonna look at the cut.”

Jimmy nodded.

“Barely bigger than a paper cut,” Thomas said and let go. “Second you’re done here iodine and bandage.”

“Yes, Mr. Barrow,” Jimmy said and shook his head. 

“Try not to drop anything else, or wound yourself further, James,” Thomas called over his shoulder as he disappeared down the stairs. 

“Cozier and cozier,” Mrs. O’Brien stated, surprising Jimmy by appearing seemingly out of nowhere. He was getting surprised to often today he decided. Better start being more aware of his surroundings. He also decided to ignore her. 

“People are talking you know.”

Jimmy clenched his jaw and focused on cleaning up the mess. 

“Alfred says you keep going into his room at night. Closing the door even. Is that wise. Might get yourself arrested.”

“No ones getting arrested,” Jimmy said, standing up to his full height. He wasn’t Alfred, or even Thomas but had inches on O’Brien. “That’s what’s stuck in your craw, isn’t? You didn’t ruin his life like you wanted to and you can’t stand that you didn’t.” 

“He’s trouble you know. No good will come from being _friends_ with Thomas Barrow. He’s loyal to no one but himself. He’d raise no hand to help you.”

Jimmy laughed. 

“Laugh all you wish, I’m right.”

“Thing is Mrs. O’Brien. You’re wrong.” Guilt flashed as he remembered the fight in Thirsk but he shoved it away. “But believe what you must.”

She scowled at him for a long moment before simply walking away. He watched her walk down the stairs. Knowing she was trying to figure out another way to get under his skin about Thomas. Everyone was still giving them looks when they sat next each other, or Thomas leaned against the wall and listened to him play the piano. Mrs. Hughes had spoken to Thomas even. But that would all go away, Jimmy thought. They were all just getting used to Jimmy’s 180 on the subject of Thomas Barrow. None of them knew what happened. That was just for him and Thomas. 

_No one knows your other secret either. Not even Thomas._


	8. Chapter 8

Jimmy set down the teapot he was polishing and leaned back in his chair and glared at Alfred. Alfred himself had been looking at him every three seconds it felt like. Staring a way that had Jimmy ready for a question or to hear whatever boring thing about food Alfred was thinking. He was getting antsy from the anticipation of it. But Alfred kept silent. 

So, Jimmy stared and then on cue Alfred looked up at him started and quickly looked away. Jimmy intensified his glare, and leaned forward putting a hand on the table. “Bloody spit it out.”

Alfred turned bright red. 

Jimmy’s irritation turned to curiosity. 

Alfred looked away and down at the spoon he was polishing. 

“Don’t be a git, say it.”

“It’s just… been talking to my aunt…er…Mrs. O’Brien.”

Jimmy groaned. 

“She was… she was saying Thomas is just waiting for his chance.”

“His chance for what?”

“To…” Alfred turned redder. “You know…”

Jimmy swallowed, he felt his palms go sweaty. He knew what was coming now and it wasn’t really something he wanted to think about. It never even crossed his mind when was with Thomas. Didn’t that mean he didn’t need to worry? 

“He might try… do something to you again?” Alfred averted his eyes quickly, his face was red as a beet.

“No,” Jimmy said. 

Alfred started and looked at him in total disbelief.

“He doesn’t even touch me,” Jimmy said the second he realized it. Except for the other day when he cut his finger. It’s why they’d both been so aware of it Jimmy held his breathe. It didn’t count as a touch, though, it’d been medical. 

Alfred made a face. 

“We’re mates now; everyone needs to bloody stop gossiping about it,” Jimmy spat out. 

Alfred immediately looked guilty which satisfied him. He leaned back inis chair and took in a deep breath. It was getting tiresome, always being questioned about why he was trusting Thomas. He had his reasons, a good reason and he wasn’t about to share it. It was his business. He was ashamed of it for one thing and ashamed of himself for the whole thing. He had been all along. They were no ones business. None at all. 

“Better get back to work,” Alfred said, returning the spoons.

Jimmy snorted but picked up the teapot, putting the irritation he felt to good use. The teapot was going to shine. 

~~~  
Music filled the air as Thomas made his way down the stairs. It meant Jimmy was at the piano. He was playing a song he recognized from his last visit to the Foghorn. Thomas realized it meant he was practicing and felt a smile tug at his mouth. He made his way into the kitchens to get a cup of tea, listening and noticing that Jimmy was putting a bit of a spin on the song. It wasn’t quite what Thomas remembered hearing.

“That’s not the song, he’s messing it up,” Ivy groaned.

“I like it better,” Daisy said. 

Thomas silently agreed with Daisy as he went about serving himself tea. 

“I wouldn’t know how to dance to it,” Ivy frowned. 

Thomas rolled his eyes.

“Maybe Jimmy would show me.” Ivy smiled suddenly and put down the dish she’d been washing and walked toward the servants hall.

“Where are you going, get back here and finish what you started,” Daisy shouted after her sounding a lot like Mrs. Patmore. Thomas again agreed with Daisy but said nothing as he followed Ivy toward the servants hall. She was already at the piano. Hovering behind Jimmy, into his space and Thomas felt a spike of envy roll his stomach. 

“What are doing to the song?”

“Just improvising a bit,” Jimmy shrugged.

“How’d you dance to it?”

“Same always, wouldn’t you,” Jimmy dismissed her. “Not changing it that much, just a quicker tempo.”

“Dance faster? I don’t know I could do it.”

“Then don’t,” Jimmy said. 

Thomas smirked and sat down in the rocking chair. 

“Not sure I like it…” Ivy said.

“No one asked you, did they,” Jimmy huffed. 

“Oi, Ivy, I said get back to work,” Daisy shouted from the door. 

Ivy huffed herself and turned on her heel. Thomas watched her leave with satisfaction and leaned back in the chair. Jimmy turned and saw him and gave a nod of acknowledgement. It was new for Thomas, to see a welcome in Jimmy’s expression. It felt nice but he knew he shouldn’t get used to it. Jimmy went back to the piano, but after a few strains of the song Thomas noticed he’d stopped playing around with the song. He played the normal version of the tune. Thomas frowned and stood up. Putting his teacup on the top of the piano he leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette. 

“Play the faster tempo,” he said.

Jimmy looked at him and shrugged. “If it confused Ivy…”

Thomas snorted. “Ivy is a dullard. Daisy liked it. I love it.”

Jimmy looked at him. “Daisy did?”

Thomas nodded.

“You do?”

“I do, not that I have a bloody clue about music.” 

“Know what you like…” Jimmy started changing up the song again. 

Thomas grinned. He thought about going back to sit but he couldn’t bring himself. Instead he stayed leaning against he wall near the piano, letting his tea go cold and smoking a few cigarettes. Until Jimmy stopped playing after a few run throughs of his change up of the song. 

“Really think I should do it?”

“Change the song?” 

“Play at that pub?”

“Of course,” Thomas shook his head. “You’ll love it.”

Jimmy looked at him looking uncharacteristically insecure. “Just not sure I should…”

“Play your version or don’t…” Thomas shrugged. “Either way I think you’ll do well and have fun.” He wasn’t worried about Jimmy enjoying it, once he started he’d get attention. Thomas knew he thrived on it. 

“Think about it…” Jimmy started hitting keys again. Thomas knew from the first note it was Jimmy’s song. 

“Think I wanna noodle at the keys until Carson yells at me…” Jimmy said glancing at Thomas. 

Thomas instantly realized he meant alone. He nodded. “I’ll go up to bed then… think it’s only us left.”

“Thomas…” Jimmy said.

He stopped thrilled to hear his first name, downstairs. He turned and waited for Jimmy to finish his sentence. 

“Nothing… thank you.” Jimmy looked away from him and back to the keys.

“No need of thanks.” Thomas shook his head. “Good night, Jimmy.”

“Yeah, good night,” Jimmy said distracted already back to playing the piano. Thomas’ eyes when to his hands, how they moved over the keys, the length of his fingers and he swallowed down the desire that rose up. He pushed it away and made himself move before Jimmy realized he was still watching. 

~~~

_The Day Off_

He lit his seventh cigarette. It was drizzling out, the dampness made him feel a bit cold despite the layers of his suit and his coat. He dug his left hand into his pocket. The damp made it ache and it was distracting him and he felt it was because of his nerves. Thomas inhaled deeply and let the smoke burn his lungs. His right hand tapping against his leg.

It felt odd to him. That he was spending his day off with Jimmy. They were going to have an outing together. Go the pub, drink, and Thomas would listen to him play. He was there to support Jimmy at Jimmy’s request and didn’t that feel strange. 

He couldn’t read more into things though, he couldn’t make that mistake. He couldn’t push things. He’d let Jimmy take the lead and Jimmy had asked him to come with him. He was nervous though at what the day would bring, what would happen before they had to turn back around and return to Downton. 

The door opened and Jimmy appeared in his brown suit. His hair falling over his eyes and a grin on his face. “Ready?”

“Quite,’ Thomas gave him a tight smile.

“You alright?”

“Fine.”

“This will be fun, you’ll see,” Jimmy cocked his head and they started walking. 

“Less nervous today?”

“Completely. I think it’s the thinking about it. Usually just sit at piano and play. Like it when people like it. Don’t plan on it you know?”

Thomas shook his head.

“Not all of us can think five steps ahead of everyone.” Jimmy laughed at him. 

“I don’t always…” Thomas said, his voice bitter thinking about O’Brien.

“But you try.”

“I don’t like being caught by surprise,” Thomas admitted. 

“Who does?” 

“No one, I suppose.”

Jimmy nodded. “But still I don’t like to plan… ruins the fun of things. Unexpected can be good. Let life take you where it will.”

Thomas nodded and thought about the fair. The fight. How it propelled Jimmy into his room and into his life. Was this how it happened, this philosophy of Jimmy’s. Maybe he should heed it, think about it…

But no. He liked plans. 

~~~

Jimmy loved the pub. It was called Bright Guard. He was drawn immediately to the piano itself, rather than its current player — though he wasn’t bad — but the piano was beautiful. It was grand for one thing, a grand piano in a pub. He stared at it slightly dazed. It was simple wood, he guessed it was cheap as pianos of it’s size went. But it was beautiful. 

“Jimmy?”

“The piano,” he laughed. “I’m being silly. It’s just a a piano.”

“It’s nice. This place is… Wondering if we can afford it,” he muttered.

“Can always get money,” Jimmy winked at him. 

Thomas shook his head. “Let’s find out who to talk to about you playing.”

Jimmy took another look at the piano before nodding and following Thomas through the crowd. His fingers were aching to get to play that piano and he knew he was better the guy currently playing the same song he planned to play. He wasn’t worried about repeating it, he was sure his changes would impress the crowd. He was very sure, especially after Thomas’ prompting. It was nice, it was, having someone believe in him again. Last person who really believed in him was his mother. Lady Anstruther had let her use his piano and showed him a thing or two but that’d been all about flirting and sex. She never knew he really loved the music. 

“We’re supposed to talk to the man with the red beard by the piano,” Thomas appeared in front of him holding two beers. “Here you go, Jimmy.”

Jimmy took his beer and banged it against Thomas’. “To getting some good music in this place.”

Thomas laughed. Jimmy turned and made his way toward the piano, happy to be going in that direction. He could feel Thomas at his back, the crowd pressing around them. Jimmy scanned the area around the piano and saw the man with the beard and piece of paper. He hurried over to him. 

“Hey mate, this where I sign up to play?”

“It is… gonna cost though.”

“He has the money here…” Thomas handed over the money too quickly for Jimmy to catch the amount. 

“Thomas…” 

“You’ll pay me back.”

“Favorite of the night gets half the pot,” the bearded man said. “What you’re going to play.”

Jimmy gave him the name of the song.

“People are gonna get tired of hearing it. But three guys in front of you are playing something else. Might work in your favor.”

Jimmy noticed it was another bloke at the piano playing his tune. “Maybe I should play something else…” he looked at Thomas.

“You are, though, Jimmy. Up tempo.” Thomas grinned at him.

“Right, right you are.”

“Be five people from now. Count the songs, you don’t show up within three minutes, lose your turn.”

Jimmy nodded. “We better find a place close then.”

“Listen to your competition. So, far don’t think you have need to worry.”

“Barely anyone is dancing…” Jimmy noticed looking at the dance floor. People seemed to focused on drinking and listening to the music. 

“This song doesn’t seem made for dancing.”

“It’s supposed to be a waltz,” Jimmy laughed. “He’s playing it off meter.”

“Is he?” 

Jimmy nodded. 

“Here,” Thomas spotted a table, quite near the piano. They hopped onto the stools the two of them taking drinks from their mugs. A man came up to the table, put his hands on it and leaned in. “So, one of you planning to play?”

“Might be,” Thomas said. “What’s it to you?”

“Oh, just might not want to bother. After you hear my brother. He’s quite talented, he’s bound to win the money in that pot.”

“Really,” Jimmy said. “Don’t know about that. I’m quite good.”

“Are you? How long have you been training?”

“Training? Who needs training,” Jimmy laughed, looked at Thomas and winked. 

“My brother is a prodigy his teachers say…. But if you think you’re better?”

Jimmy grinned and went for his wallet.

“Jimmy…” Thomas warned.

“Can always make money,” Jimmy winked at Thomas again.

Thomas kept eye contact before his lips quirked up and his expression turned fond. Fond… Jimmy cleared his throat and looked away. “One quid, I win the pot.”

The other man gave him a predatory smile, thinking Jimmy his mark. Jimmy knew better than that though. “Deal,” the man said and they shook on it. 

“Not sure that was wise?”

“What’s life without risks, Thomas?”

“Risks yes. Throwing away money…”

“I’ll win. Shall we make a bet?”

“I’ll not bet my money.”

“Something else then…”

“Like what?”

“If I lose… I’ll play whatever you want at the piano for week. I know you don’t like all the newer songs I’ve been playing…. Older stuff you like.”

Thomas studied him, bringing his cigarette to his mouth and inhaling. Then he blew smoke right at Jimmy. “Calling me old are you?”

“More a fussbudget.” 

“Picky am I?” 

“You said it.”

“Haven’t minded your version of this song… love it in fact.”

“I said not all… you do have good taste. A lot of those songs I just play cause Ivy and the maids like it.”

“Catering to your audience?”

“Suppose to keep them happy.”

“And flirting.”

“The day would be boring without a few good flirts.”

“It’s no wonder my day is so long,” Thomas sarcasm was cutting. 

Jimmy paused and felt he stepped in it. “Thomas…”

“Don’t.” Thomas inhaled on his cigarette, finishing it off, he stubbed it out in the ashtray as he breathed out the smoke. “It’s okay.”

Jimmy felt like it really wasn’t at all. “Do we have a deal?”

“We can’t have a deal yet. What happens if you win.” 

“I don’t have to pay you back for the beer and the entry fee.” 

Thomas nodded.

Jimmy held out his hand.

Thomas shook his head but put his hand in his. They shook on it. Jimmy then swiveled on his stool as a new song began. An piece of music as old as the Dowager. A few people the crowd started booing and the man at the piano started to fumble at the keys. Then their was more boos…

Thomas watched as the red bearded man pulled the man off the bench. “You just got booed out, sir.”

“One down… don’t know how many to go,” Jimmy punched Thomas in the shoulder from across the small table. “I’ll win, you’ll see.”

Thomas grinned at him and Jimmy thought he rather liked it. He noticed his beer was empty and turned about to flag a bar wench for more.


	9. Chapter 9

Jimmy tapped his fingers on their table, keeping time with the music that was playing. Thomas was finding it hard to tear his eyes away from Jimmy’s hands. But he managed, it’d do him no good to think about Jimmy’s fingers or the size of his palm. He looked into the his freshly fill mug of beer and then took a generous gulp.

“He plays next boys,” a voice startled Thomas. It was the man Jimmy made that bet with. He frowned at the man and looked him up down. _Might be able to take him_ … Thomas thought and chuckled into his beer, a fight wouldn’t follow every bet Jimmy made.

“Think it’s funny don’t you… Serious bet we’ve made here.”

“Of course he doesn’t,” Jimmy said shooting him a look.

“Tell you later.”

“Oh, here he is…” 

Thomas watched a rather forgettable looking man approach the piano. He started playing another of the newer songs, Thomas has heard once or twice. Jimmy never played this one and he wondered why. It seemed nice enough but wasn’t feeling impressed. But he music or the player. 

“Right good, ain’t he,” the man said.

“Better than most this lot…” Jimmy said and shot Thomas a smug smile. 

“Is he? Thomas asked.

“Yeah,” Jimmy said. “Not better than me.”

“Just you wait.”

Thomas watched a few more people step out onto the dance floor, ones that left during the last two players But it’d been fuller about fifteen minutes back. 

“Well, all I can say is top that,” the man said and walked away.

“He must be tone def, I mean he’s good but he’s not great, and has shit taste in music.”

“You don’t like that song?”

“Too soppy, too slow. It bores me.”

“Well, can’t have that. Jimmy Kent shall never be bored.”

“If I can help it, no,” Jimmy laughed.

“Kent, Jimmy… you’re up.”

Jimmy’s eyes flew open. “Already.”

Thomas laughed and stood up with Jimmy. Jimmy looked at him. “What am I doing?”

“Being you. Go show off. Up tempo.” 

“Right, right….” Jimmy headed up to the piano. Then he turned around and looked at the crowd. “Jimmy Kent, at your service. Now this is a song that is meant to be danced too… so you people better dance.”

Thomas grinned, no one else had tried to speak to the crowed. The point was entertainment, it was a smart move on Jimmy’s part. Calculated too but the smug grin Jimmy shot his way. 

Jimmy turned and put his hands on the keys. Thomas watched him take a short breath before he began to play. Thomas heard a few people nearby groan that someone was playing _that song_ again but just as they spoke Thomas heard Jimmy’s notes, Jimmy’s speed. 

The murmurs around him changed from grumbling to appreciation. Then Jimmy glanced over his shoulder toward the dancers. “Remember this song is meant for dancing.”

“Come on, John,” a woman exclaimed and yanked her suitor out of his chair and toward the floor. Thomas followed them with his eyes and watched more and more walking out on the floor. Dancing. 

Somehow Jimmy made the piano sound louder, but maybe that was just Thomas looking so intently. He kept calling out to the dancers now and again and Thomas stood up. He walked over to the piano, standing as close as he could get. He watched Jimmy’s hands on the keys until the song trailed off to end. 

“You win,” Thomas said, grinning at Jimmy.

“I know,” Jimmy said looking satisfied and smug. He stood up and clasped Thomas’ upper arm. “Thanks for making me do this.”

The weight of his hand was solid and warm. Thomas forced himself not to look at Jimmy’s hand, afraid if he did that his want to show too much in his face. Instead he focused on the feeling of the moment. He was thrilled for Jimmy. 

“I told you, this is what you do,” Thomas said. He smiled, a rare sincere smile and thought of all the times he’d listened to Jimmy play his own songs at the piano. “You made it yours, your music is brilliant. You’re brilliant.”

~~~

Jimmy froze. He was trapped as gray-blue eyes shined with clear and honest love. Love. _He’s in love with you? Don’t pretend you forgot_. Ignore it. He grinned back at Thomas. Because he was brilliant — or felt he had been just now. Enough to win that bet he’d regretted making the second he did. Though Thomas may have found the man’s brother lackluster, Jimmy heard the true talent. But he lacked showmanship, which he had in spades, that was why people loved him. 

_He loves you_. 

“I say we need more to drink to celebrate.” Jimmy said, shoving it away again. It was the best thing to do really. _Ignore it, ignore it_ … They’d both decided that in Thomas’ room weeks ago. _I can never give you what you want… And I don’t ask for it_. And he hadn’t, not then, Thomas felt it and maybe said it in different words. Thomas would never utter the words. Jimmy wiped his palms on his thighs and looked back up at his friend. 

“We need to find that man. He’s not welshing on that bet,” Thomas was looking over Jimmy’s head and around the crowd. He was taller than most, if not Alfred, he was definitely taller than Jimmy. Though Jimmy never thought of himself as short before he worked at the Abbey. “There he is,” Thomas started through the crowd. 

Jimmy followed him, happy to be behind him. It gave him more time to push away that look on Thomas’ face. That shine in his eyes as he looked right at Jimmy and said he was brilliant. 

It wasn’t working as well as he wanted. He shoved it away again. And walked right into Thomas who had stopped suddenly. “Sorry,” he mumbled and moved to Thomas’ side. 

The man. Jimmy thought they really should’ve gotten his name. Was looking angrily at Thomas. “I will not pay out. He cheated.”

“Cheated? That’s quite the allegation.”

“I did not,” Jimmy shouted. 

“You did… all that talking to the crowd.”

“He was entertaining the crowd,” Thomas said.

“He sure did,” a girl suddenly appeared in front of Jimmy. “You were so amazing and I never heard that song played like that. I’m still winded from trying to dance to it. I fail miserably but it was so fun. I’m Cynthia Bell.”

Jimmy wondered if she breathed at all through that. “Jimmy Kent, at your service,” he grinned. She wasn’t too bad looking. 

“At my service too,” another voice asked and he turned to see another girl. Around Ivy’s age but obviously bolder and with no one at home to tell her not to rouge her cheeks. 

Jimmy heard Thomas’ laughter in his ear and he looked at him then. Thomas was shaking his head slightly but he was still looking at the man. “This what showman’s ship gives you. Now pay up…” Thomas held out his hand. 

“Travis, give them the money. Why you made bets on this, I do not know.” The brother appeared and he looked at Jimmy. “Well played, truly.”

Jimmy felt a strange rush of shyness. “You’re talented.”

“Thank you. Travis, the money.”

The man sighed and slapped a bundle of cash into Thomas’ hands. 

Thomas grinned and started counting it. Travis went to walk away. Thomas grabbed by the elbow. “Not until I finish counting.”

“Not very trustful are you?”

“No. I’m not,” Thomas said. 

“Your friend is protective,” the girl who made him think of Ivy said. 

Jimmy swallowed at the thought, she had no idea how true that was. _He loves you_. He shoved it all away, the thought and the look in Thomas’s eyes.. “What’s your name?”

“Oh. Silly me. Sadie.”

“Well, Sadie and Cynthia, want to have a drink with us?”

“I’ll go get the beer,” Thomas said pocketing Jimmy’s money.

Jimmy watched him and raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Barrow are you stealing my money?”

“I’m keeping it so you don’t flash it about.”

“Fine.”

“Find a place to sit and chat,” Thomas motioned to the girls with his hands before walking away toward the bar. 

A few minutes later he found a table with four stools. The girls sat down together, they been whispering as Jimmy led them to a table. He sat down and grinned at the two girls. They exchanged glances and Cynthia spoke. 

“Does your friend play too?”

“Thomas? No.”

“He’s older right?” she asked her voice taking on a weird tone.

“A bit, yeah…” Jimmy realized he didn’t know Thomas’ age. Did it matter? 

“You work together?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“Oh. He’s the Under Butler at Downton Abbey, and I’m First Footman.”

“Downton Abbey?” The both exclaimed and looked at each other. “Is it beautiful inside? I bet it’s beautiful inside,” Sadie said more than asked.

Jimmy was bored. They were pretty and all. But he was bored. Music was playing again and it was danceable enough. “May we dance…” he randomly looked at Sadie. 

She grinned and shot Cynthia a triumphant smile.

“I like tall, dark, and older…” her voice sounded dreamy and he stifled his laughter at her. She was like Ivy too. He led Sadie to the dance floor shaking his head. 

~~~

“You sure smoke a lot,” Sadie said.

Thomas took a deeper inhale of smoke. He could see Jimmy with Cynthia on the dance floor. He refused to dance, he wasn’t in the mood for pretending he liked a woman in his arms. The music was from a gramophone now, the red-bearded man made a small announcement they announce the winner in about half and hour. Thomas was tired, it was late, but they weren’t in a rush. They’d make the last train back to Downton. 

“I hate the smell of it,” Sadie said pointedly.

He’d forgotten she was there. He blew out the smoke in direction. “Then don’t pick up the habit.”

“Tall, dark and rude,” Sadie muttered.

Thomas decided to give her the illusion she hadn’t been heard.

“How long have you known Jimmy?”

“Over a year or so…” Thomas said, glancing back at him on the dance floor Cynthia. Moving in perfect time, Cynthia seemed to be keeping up with him better than Sadie had… probably why they hadn’t returned yet. Jimmy have her eating out of his hand soon enough. Mean she’d stop giving Thomas fluttering eyes and odd questions. 

“Does he have a girl? He seems the type who should have a girl…”

“No.”

“Is she his type? More than me?”

Thomas felt a sudden rush of pity for Mrs. Patmore. “Both of you seem the same type.”

“What? No. She’s all… rebellious. She just wants upset her parents. They’re middle class with delusions of being rich and she likes nothing better than to make trouble.”

Thomas snorted. That was why she was after him. He’d give Cynthia bigger trouble than she could ever dream. “So, you’re the good girl?”

Sadie sat up straighter. “Of course.”

“Too bad,” Thomas tapped ash into the ashtray. “Jimmy is bored by good girls.” 

Her mouth opened and she blushed fiercely. “He, he….”  
Thomas forced himself not to laugh at her, though wanted too. He was bored himself. He wanted it just be him and Jimmy again, for maybe one more beer before they had to leave to go home. He was having fun, it’d felt far easier to be out and mates with Jimmy than he’d expected. 

“I could never,” Sadie exclaimed.

Thomas lit another cigarette. “Could never what?”

“Do, do…”

“Elicit things,” he prompted in a whisper.

She turned red. 

This was getting a bit fun. “He’s a man.”

“I need, I need to go find my friends. They told me not to go up to him…” Sadie bolted from the table.

Thomas allowed himself a good chuckle as she raced away. Relief flooding him. Now he needn’t worry about small talk and could just enjoy his cigarettes until Jimmy returned. 

A minute or so later, Jimmy came back to the table with a very flushed looking Cynthia. “This has been exhausting, but so much fun. You’re a great dancer, Jimmy.” 

Jimmy took Sadie’s vacant seat next to Thomas. 

“Thomas are you sure you don’t want to dance,” Cynthia asked, standing by him instead of sitting. 

“You aren’t too tired then?”

“No.” She beamed hopefully.

“No.”

“Why not?” Jimmy asked. “You’re good.”

“Is he!” Cynthia looked hopeful.

Thomas turned to Jimmy and caught his eyes. “Not in the mood.”

Jimmy startled a bit and then ducked his head looking guilty. “He’s a moody, git, I’m apologize. Shouldn’t have promised you a dance.”

Thomas blew smoke in Jimmy’s face. 

Jimmy grinned at him.

Cynthia sat down. “Maybe next time Thomas?”

“I don’t think so,” Thomas said.

“Why? Do you have a girl?”

Jimmy snorted beer out of his nose. Thomas happened to glance over right then and saw it happen. The beer spewed outward and he started coughing. 

“Oh dear? Was that a bad question?”

Thomas put out his cigarette and leaned into Jimmy’s space. “Can you breathe?”

“It smells like beer,” Jimmy snorted and started laughing. 

“It wasn't quite that funny,” Thomas said but he knew he was smiling.

“It’s bloody funny,” he laughed. 

“I’m quite confused.”

Thomas turned to Cynthia. “I heard tell you like to scandalize your parents?”

She sighed. “She’s always gossiping behind my back.”

“It’s true though?” 

“Well, yes.”

“Well,” Thomas leaned forward. “As long as you do not use my name when you speak of this. I may just give you story that will cause your parents quite a worry.”

Cynthia’s eyes widened. “I knew you were special.”

“Hear that Thomas, you're special.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. She was about to take that back. “You can tell your parents that you met a pansy.”

“A…” she blinked at him.

Thomas thought about Daisy, and wondered if he ever been granted such ignorant innocence. He couldn’t remember it, it must have never been. “Just say it, Cynthia. Don’t mention my name. You’ll give them quite the fright.”

“If you say so… can’t hurt to see if it’ll garner a reaction. Pansy? Really flowers?”

Jimmy snorted and Thomas turned to make sure it wasn’t more beer.

“I’m missing something.”

“You are, but it’s best you do.”

“Okay. Well, I guess I’ll go back to my friends now, if I’m not going to get that dance. Thank you for all the dancing, Jimmy.”

“My pleasure.”

“So, you were at my service,” she grinned.

Jimmy winked.

Thomas felt a familiar burn in his stomach when he witnessed open flirting between others. He dreamed about doing it, about just putting it all out there. A part of him would always rail against the fact he couldn’t. It felt wrong to him. To hide himself and he knew at times he was poor at hiding. If he hid it at all. He looked at Jimmy who was leaning back in his chair, grinning as he finished off the last of his beer. 

“Another round,” Jimmy said. “I’m paying.”

“If you’re paying.”

“I am. Go get it.”

“You get it,” Thomas said and pulled out his wallet.

“I sat down. Been dancing all night.”

“Exaggeration.”

The music stopped abruptly. Both of the them instantly turned toward where the piano was. The red-bearded man hopped onto the bench. “Well, we have a winner for our first ever open music night and about 1 quid from the pot of entries. The winner is…”

Jimmy stood up, Thomas right behind him.

“Jimmy Kent.”

They grinned at each other and Thomas enjoyed the smug grin on Jimmy’s face. He looked cocky and it was beautiful to Thomas. Thomas felt it too, a bit of swagger in his step. He knew Jimmy would win, Jimmy was brilliant when it came to music. Thomas was proud, this crowd saw it too, at least to a point. Maybe not as well as Thomas. 

Jimmy jumped up on the piano bench. Letting the crowd see him cocky grin and bowing. Someone yelled at him to play it again, so he hopped down. “Give the money to him,” he told the red-bearded man. Then he flexed his fingers and started playing. 

Thomas held out his hand and the man plopped the money. Thomas counted it and put in with the rest of Jimmy’s money. He should tell him to save some. He knew Jimmy was more likely to rush off and spend it all. The music was filling the room again and the energy was spiking upward again. 

Jimmy grinned at him over his shoulder. 

Thomas nodded at him and motioned with his head he was headed to the bar. He got them their last mugs of beer and made his way to the piano. Jimmy finished off the song, saying he couldn’t play anymore tonight to a man Thomas didn’t remember seeing before. The man was shaking Jimmy’s hand though.

“I’ll think about, I can’t get out here much,” Jimmy said. 

“Well, anytime you are,” the man said. 

Jimmy turned to him and laughed. “He offered to pay me to play.”

Thomas blinked.

“Not much at all, hell if I could be paid a decent amount I’d do this for a living. But yeah it was pennies.”

Thomas nodded. He’d flashed for a moment on Jimmy playing the piano for a living. Living this life day in and out. He thought it was right. It was so right for Jimmy. But he would leave. Leave Downton. Thomas’s mouth went dry at thought. He wasn’t sure he could bear it. A life without Jimmy in it. Thomas gave himself mental shake. It wasn’t happening. Not a thing to worry about.

“Thomas?”

He turned to Jimmy and realized he blanked out. “Congratulations.”

“I would…. If I could make money off it.”

“You should,” Thomas agreed.

“What would you do?”

“What?”

“If you weren’t in service?”

“I wanted out… thought I had during and after the war. Once it was over I was going to go in the black market.”

Jimmy eyes widened. “Really… that…sounds amazing. Why didn’t you?”

Thomas looked away. “I screwed it up. Fell for a con. Took all my money and gave me crap to try to sell. But I couldn’t… I wanted to use the money earned to open a real shop. I wanted to create loyal customers. It was naive.”

“That bastard.”

“Yeah,” Thomas lifted his beer mug up. “But then I was penniless. But the Abbey had some emergencies, Carson was sick with the flu… I wormed my back into a job at the Abbey by being indispensable.” 

“So no other dreams?”

“Not sure that qualifies as one,” Thomas laughed. “I…” he stared at Jimmy. He had a dream. A real one. But. “You’ll laugh.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Clocks.”

“Oh,” Jimmy grinned and seemed on verge of laughing.

Thomas looked away. 

“No, no, it makes sense is all. Way you talk about them. But didn’t you say your dad owns a shop? Why aren’t you there then, inheriting it?”

Thomas met Jimmy’s questioning eyes then. “Why do you think?”

“Oh.”

“He figured it out, not sure how? But he threw me out and disowned me when I was 15.”

Jimmy frowned. 

“It’s no matter.”

“Me Dad, he wanted me to go into the shoe repair business with him.” Jimmy scowled. “But shoes? He didn’t even own his own shop or nothing… maybe if he had it wouldn’t have seem so bad. I think maybe he wanted his own place. Who wouldn’t?”

Thomas tried to picture Jimmy working on shoes and shook his head. Jimmy could barely stand polishing them. “No, that’s not the right life for you.”

“No,” Jimmy. “My parents, they thought I lived with my head in the clouds.”

“But they loved you.”

“They did…” Jimmy paused. “Your mum?”

Thomas looked down at his feet. He tried not to think about her. “She watched him throw me out, didn’t she…”

Jimmy scowled again. “Well…” he swung his arm around Thomas’ shoulders. “You’ve got me.”

Thomas felt warm, fuzzy and oddly safe in that moment. He hoped he’d never forget it.


	10. Chapter 10

Jimmy stared at his ceiling. There was a water stain that looked a bit a bird. He didn’t know what kind, maybe a fantasy one. There was wings and a bit of a beak. Or he was just daft and staring at ceiling try not to think about the fact that Thomas is in love with him. 

It was heavy on his chest. The knowledge. It was like an iron has been placed over his heart, making it pound loud in his ears and vibrate against his rib cage Wanting to ignore it wasn’t working to make it go away. They’d gotten home from the bar hours ago. 

His adrenaline rush from playing, from winning had long since faded away. He was exhausted but he couldn’t sleep because every time he closer his eyes. He saw Thomas’ eyes. Clear gray and blue and sincere. So sincere. That was the problem. Thomas didn’t look at people with sincerity, Jimmy told himself. He was aloof, he was guarded, he was mean. 

_Not with you_. 

“Why?” He asked the water stain bird. He rolled over to his side and punched his pillow. Pushing his head into it and frowning. He didn’t care, he didn’t care what the hell it was about him that made Thomas a completely different person. 

_Love_.

Jimmy frowned. That wasn’t it, he sighed. Thomas really didn’t love him. Thomas barely knew him and if he knew him better he wouldn’t love him. Jimmy was a coward and all he really had going for him was his face and his body. _Ask Lady Anstruther_. 

He flopped onto his back. He didn’t want to think about her either. All the touching and forward behavior. He let out a bitter chuckle. He’d gone from her doing that to Thomas doing that… 

Another layer for his complex feelings on Thomas touching him. Too many layers there. “No, no, stop thinking, stop thinking now.” He flipped onto his stomach and put the pillow over his head. Squeezed his eyes shut and somehow made his mind go blank. 

~~~

Thomas served afternoon tea. It was dreary affair these days with Lady Mary more an apparition than a person. Lady Grantham and Lady Edith would try to draw her into conversations. But it was useless. Thomas missed her sniping at Lady Edith, it was an amusement he quite enjoyed. 

These days however the conversation seemed to move in the same dull circle. Tom Branson tried to bring up new ideas for how to run the estate, Lord Grantham would shoot them down. Branson would try to get Mary to side with him. She’d stare into space. Lady Edith would attempt to put in her two cents and his Lordship would shut them all up. Then Lady Grantham would change he subject to either the weather or dinner. 

So, Thomas’ mind wandered. It wandered to the night before at the Bright Guard. Jimmy winning the night and a good sum of money. Thomas realized it was all in his coat still, he’d have to give it to him tonight. Tonight. They’d likely talk in his room. It was a habit? He could rely on it? Rely on this friendship?

It was starting to feel real. That was terrifying. The idea that maybe all of this was real and he was forging something that could be called an actual friendship with someone. A true relationship. It was rarity in his life, no it wasn’t even that. Thomas had no real friendships. Mrs. O’Brien was perhaps the closest he came but the truth was that had been an alliance and a weak one at that. It hadn’t weathered its first storm. It all flew apart and he’d been wounded. 

But friends? No. He and the Duke had been an impetuous and passionate affair. Something meant to blow up in smithereens. He hadn’t seen it then but it was clear to him ten years later. His other relationships, all of them were arrangements — other alliances. A give and take, based on need and not want. There was no emotional connection. Not even with the men he slept with. He wanted it though. An emotional connection. Any. He just seemed unable to create it. 

Anytime he thought he had it, it vanished. Edward Courtenay. Maybe they had a friendship, maybe that was blossoming. Thomas knew his heart was invested more than friendship called for — but if it was all he could’ve had he’d take it. 

Like now with Jimmy.

Sybil. Sybil been complicated but he felt they were friends. During the war, at the hospital and at the house. They worked well together, they’d both cared for Edward probably more than should have. Both of them were more distant and medical with their patients after him. But she was still Lady Sybil and he was still in service. 

His eyes went to Tom Branson. He frowned. Tom looked out of place, Tom looked like he knew he was out of the place. What Sybil had seen in him, Thomas was unsure. He supposed it was the politics. Sybil truly cared and he supposed the Irishman did as well. 

So he’d wanted it to be friendship with Sybil but never could’ve been. Never could’ve been was the pattern, the motto and it was possible he was just poorly made for connections. 

No he couldn’t get complacent, or give into the hope. He had to be careful and try to leave Jimmy at arms length. Thomas blinked a few times, his heart beat was picking up. He pushed away the hope that was the sound he heard in it. Even if it was real connection. _It’s only friendship_.

~~~

“Jimmy you like the pictures right?” Ivy said. 

Jimmy leaned against the wall of the kitchen waiting for dinner to start. “Everyone does don’t they?”

“Haven’t been to one in ages.”

“That so?” he smiled at on reflex. 

She beamed at him. He looked over her shoulder and wished he was in a different conversation. Or a different life. He thought about the Bright Guard. That grand piano, even their gramophone had seem grand. They’d had good beer — Thomas been right it all felt very high end. But a high end place that fit him well. Very well. The man wanted him to play for him, enough to offer him money. It was pennies but it was better than nothing. If only it wasn’t pennies, Jimmy thought. He didn’t want to be carrying dinner up to other people for his entire life. Ending up like Carson would be a nightmare. 

“Jimmy? Jimmy?” Ivy’s voice was grating.

“What?”

“The pictures…” she hinted. 

“See if the housemaid and Alfred want to go, if you want to see one so bad,” Jimmy snapped. 

“Oh,” she looked away from him, blinking too hard and he felt a jolt of guilt. 

“Look Ivy…”

“There will be no look Ivy,” Mrs. Patmore shouted. “Ivy will get to finishing that lemon mayonnaise. You get out of here until you are needed,” she snapped at Jimmy with her towel. 

He ducked out of the room. Not like he wanted to talk to Ivy anyway, but no one had been in the servants hall. He walked in there now and saw Thomas sitting in the rocking chair. He grinned and walked over to him and held out his hand.

Thomas looked up at him, cigarette in his mouth. “What?”

“Give me one,” he said. 

“If you wish,” Thomas answered and fished out a cigarette for him.

Jimmy took it along with Thomas’ lighter and lit it up. He pulled in the smoke and enjoyed the burn. It was a nice distraction from his current boredom. He looked at the piano and wished he had time to sit down at it. But he little time and he’d just get irritated he had leave the piano after only a handful of minutes.  
“What do you want me to play?” he asked Thomas.

“Play?”

“Tonight. Remember you get a week requests.”

Thomas laughed. “That was if you lost, Jimmy.”

“No it wasn’t… yes it was,” Jimmy looked away. How had he twisted that up in his head. He’d been looking forward to honoring Thomas’ requests. Gotten it in his head they’d be interesting and offer him something new to do. 

Thomas stood up. “You should play what you want, Jimmy.”

“Who cares if I won, though… What do you want me to play?”

“I just said…”

“Not what I want. What you want, Thomas?” 

Thomas stilled in front of him. His eyes went to the piano and back to Jimmy. “Play me your favorite song,” Thomas said. “Your most favorite song.”

Jimmy swallowed. That was personal. But then that was what he asked, wasn’t it. What Thomas wanted, wouldn’t that be personal. Jimmy wasn’t sure suddenly though and he looked away from Thomas. 

“You don’t have too,” Thomas said quickly with a waver in his voice that showed a distinct lack of confidence which was utterly not Thomas… Or at least the face of Thomas Barrow everyone saw.

“No, no… I will,” Jimmy said. “We made a deal.”

“No we didn’t… well not this.”

“Then now we have a new deal,” Jimmy said. 

Thomas nodded. “Jimmy only…”

“I want too, Thomas,” He said. His heart was pounding, he felt like Thomas asking him to disrobe and maybe it was in a way. But he felt like he had to do it. He owed Thomas. He told the man they could be friends. Right? That came with giving something didn’t it?

_Have you ever done that before for a friend?_

_Who are your friends, Jimmy?_

~~~

Thomas stepped outside a few hours later. It was damp again, but not drizzling. He tried to relax his limps. He was better, much, after he fight at the fair but he felt like he was getting stiffer and stiffer. Maybe it was just age catching up him. He was starting to see gray hairs, when had that caught up to him. He wasn’t that much older than Jimmy or Alfred. He was closer them than he was to Carson in age that was for sure. 

He shook his head, he didn’t want think in that direction. It got him nothing but dark and morose thoughts. Which never did him any favors because he’d take it out on others. Though the others tended to ask for it more than not. 

Thomas pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He’d focus on something else instead. Jimmy. He allowed himself to smile. Jimmy who wanted to play music for him. How had that come about? He’d lost their little bet, though he’d known he would. It’d been a silly little deal anyway. 

Why had Jimmy wanted Thomas to win it? Had he really been looking forward to it? He hadn’t said that, but it felt like it to Thomas? Though he’d looked like regretted it for a beat when Thomas finally said what he wanted. Maybe he’d asked for too much? The favorite song of a man who music was so important? That was personal? Was he allowed to ask Jimmy to shed personal secrets off his skin? 

Jimmy agreed, Thomas worried he’d asked too much, despite Jimmy telling him he wanted too. He’d used Thomas’ name. He loved his name in Jimmy mouth. Thomas exhaled smoke on a sigh. His heart was trying to runaway from him again. He couldn’t… He had to keep things arms length. But he wanted… 

He wanted something real. A friendship. If Jimmy was willing to give him his favorite song? What did Thomas have to offer him return that wouldn’t make the man rush off in disgust? He felt like he should maybe share something, telling Jimmy something no one else knew… 

When Jimmy played his favorite song, on Thomas would know what it meant? Maybe he was overthinking? He was just on working blind, winging it because this was new territory. Thomas Barrow protected himself, he didn’t let people inside. 

Except for Jimmy Kent. 

Always except for Jimmy Kent.

Thomas sighed. His heart ached. 

“If this friendship works, it’ll fade… you’ll get used to what you can have it will become enough,” he whispered it to the grey sky. 

~~~

Twenty minutes later Thomas sat down in the rocking chair and picked up the paper. Jimmy was already at the piano but Thomas forced himself not to look at the other man. Jimmy was playing the song from last night, his winning tune and Thomas thought he felt Jimmy’s smugness in the notes. 

“How did you do? You didn’t say?” Alfred said. “Jimmy?”

“Hmmm.”

“At that pub thing?”

“Oh, I won.”

“Did you?” Anna asked and she and Mr. Bates exchanged glances. “That’s wonderful? Did you win something?”

“A bit of money, not sure how much, Mr. Barrow has it.”

“Stealing money your money?” Mr. Bates asked far to seriously. 

“If he stole it, I don’t think I’d know he had it, would I, Mr. Bates,” Jimmy said curtly.

“It’s good you did well, Jimmy. You’re a good player,” Anna said. 

“They offered me some money to play, but not enough to take it seriously. Might do it, if I can line it up on day off though, just for some extra pennies.”

“Money, they offered you?” Mrs. Hughes said. “Well, that’s quite wonderful.”

“He’s very talented,” Thomas said unable to stay quiet.

Jimmy turned and looked at him. “You’re here.”

Thomas met his eyes and nodded.

Jimmy stared at him for a long beat before turning back to the piano. He’d stopped playing when he heard Thomas. Now he put his fingers over the keys and then off again. Thomas watched him and felt a bit parched suddenly. The anticipation was a bit nauseating. Jimmy seemed unsure and Thomas didn’t want ask him for things he didn’t want to give.

“Jimmy…” he breathed it out without meaning too. 

Jimmy paused, his hand hovering over the keys. He turned to look at him and he nodded. “I want to.” 

Thomas nodded.

Jimmy pressed his fingers down and started playing something. Thomas didn’t know it. It sounded old fashioned and it was simple. Thomas thought maybe there was a bit of it, in the refrains he’d heard Jimmy working when he was noodling around with his own music. 

“Haven’t heard that in ages,” Mrs. Hughes said. “Where did you learn that?”

“Didn’t… not really,” Jimmy said. “Am playing it right I think…”

“You think? Well, yes, dear you are. Haven’t you played it before?”

“Never.” Jimmy kept playing and the song ended. But he started it up again and Thomas realized he was more sure of the notes now, more sure of the piece. “My mother hummed it to me as a lullaby. Or when I was sick… never thought to play it before.”

“Hummed it did she… musical talent must run in your family.”

“I suppose…” Jimmy looked over at Thomas. 

Thomas met his eyes but he felt spun. This was the favorite song, something his mother hummed, something he never played before, something else he’d plucked from the air and knew how to play with his hands. A simple tune that was deep inside the own music he created — Thomas was sure now, he recognized it as the seeds that drove Jimmy’s own sound. 

He’d keep that a secret longer though, even from Jimmy, that he knew what music was Jimmy’s alone. That felt to intimate. This felt too intimate, that Jimmy gave him this, just because he asked. 

“It’s beautiful,” Thomas said. 

Jimmy smiled and turned back to the keys. He played it through a few more times, each time more sure, with Mrs. Hughes praising him and telling him had it quite right, quite right indeed.


	11. Chapter 11

Anna couldn’t focus on her sewing. Instead her ears drifted to the music. Jimmy was playing the song his mother hummed to him a child over and over again. He seemed more sure every time, she felt as if he was learning it more and more. She found it odd he’d never played it before and she wondered what made him decide to….

Though, really she didn’t wonder at all. Her eyes darted to Thomas, again. He was the rocking chair, his chosen throne really, paper in his hands but he’d given up bothering with the pretense of reading it. He was unabashedly watching Jimmy. Jimmy was too focused on the piano to see it and thank goodness she thought. Anna liked their truce, but she was unsure it would remain if Jimmy could see Thomas’ expression. Anna knew it well, she saw it in her husbands eyes daily. 

Love.

It was confusing. Her whole life she’d been taught it wasn’t Godly for men to lay with men. It was unnatural. She’d heard Mr. Carson call it foul more than once. She supposed given knowing Thomas she had heard more conversation about the subject than most ever even thought about it. When Jimmy first arrived it’d been obvious Thomas was a taken to him as Ivy. When the trouble had happened she’d assumed Thomas overstepped his bounds due to loneliness. It never occurred to her he might truly have feelings for Jimmy. Until the last month that was because seeing together, seeing the friendship grow it was becoming more and more clear to her that Thomas loved Jimmy. 

Which was worrisome. She looked between them again and shook her head slightly. Jimmy wasn’t like Thomas and much like everyone else she was wondering what had caused the change in weather between them. It seemed as if over night Jimmy was Thomas’s friend. Anna heard him hiss at both O’Brien and Alfred to just shut up accept it more than once. 

The rest of them were trying to do just that, but they all couldn’t help but worry. Seeing the way Thomas was staring at him right now, brought the worry for Anna. If Jimmy saw it, if he understood it, he’d probably leap back again and lash out at Thomas. Shouting about being a real man and it would hurt Thomas. And a hurt Thomas was trouble. 

But. She listened to the song Jimmy was playing. She remembered how he looked at Thomas quite a few times before and after starting to play it. They’d spoken to each other too… Their voices too low for her to hear but somehow they’d heard each other. Was he playing it for Thomas? Because of Thomas? But it was about his mother? Surely there was some other reason. A personal one though, and really none of her business. 

Neither are Thomas’ feelings, she reminded herself and forced herself to go back to her sewing. 

~~~

Mrs. Hughes found she couldn’t get the lullaby Jimmy been playing out of her mind. It was a good hour now he’d finally closed up the piano and gone up the stairs. Thomas walking with him — she shook her head as she started humming. Been ages since she heard the old song, her own childhood most likely and it was locked in her mind now. The one thing she could give Jimmy Kent was a musical talent.

The one good thing. She sighed as she thought about the past year and she shook her head. She spoken to Thomas already, but it’d done nothing to placate her feelings on the matter of their sudden friendship. Tonight seeing Thomas’ face as he listened to Jimmy play the lullaby — well she was more worried than ever. 

Besotted didn’t begin to cover the look in Thomas’ eyes. In fact she never seen Thomas less guarded in her life. His whole protected facade was falling as he simply gazed at that boy playing the piano. 

She frowned as she settled herself at the table in her sitting room, waiting for Mrs. Patmore to come for the their night tradition of tea and a bit of a gab. There was something to do with the night’s concert that she had missed. Something about it had to do with Thomas and Jimmy. At one point she almost felt like Jimmy was giving Thomas permission to something? Though how that would work she didn’t know, the thought was rather silly she realized. It was hard not to wonder why Jimmy who preferred his songs as modern as possible was suddenly playing an old Scottish lullaby.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do about that Ivy,” Mrs. Patmore said the minute she stepped into the room and lowered their tea to the table. 

“What is it now?”

“Oh, the more that fool boy plays around on that piano the more she moons about my kitchen. What was that he was playing tonight? It seemed old fashioned for him.”

“He is a fool boy…. It was an old Scottish lullaby believe it or not. Say’s his mother used to hum it, oh I wish I could recall the words. Know the tune well enough though. James’ says he’s never played it, or seen the music for it I dear say. He does have quite a talent.”

“Quite the ear for music. That lullaby was a nice change from that new faster newfangled things he’s been playing of late.”

“Yes, yes. It brought back some fond memories of childhood,” Mrs. Hughes smiled. 

“Ivy thought it romantic. She was spinning herself tales and tales. Not sure what it will take for her to see that boy is not worth her time.”

“It’ll be lesson learned hard, Mrs. Patmore.”

“Indeed. If any of them were just in love with the right person,” Mrs. Patmore shook her head and started laughing. “That Daisy, always picks the wrong side of it.” 

“Does seem as if she does, well she only has to get it right once.”

“That is the hope, that is the hope.” Mrs. Patmore said. “Though, dare I say it — I miss the days when she had a crush on Thomas. A much simpler time for my kitchen. I feel I live in a drama some days.”

“Ah, Thomas,” Mrs. Hughes frowned her earlier thoughts slamming back.

“What is it?”

“I worry about this… friendship he and Jimmy are playing at.”

“It won’t last,” Mrs. Patmore nodded. 

Mrs. Hughes nodded. “It surely can’t… It’s well a miracle tonight Jimmy didn’t see Thomas’ face as he watched the boy play. They spoke a few times, and I dare say I feel I missed something. But Thomas is like Ivy, he sees that boy and sees things that aren’t there.”

“I hope there isn’t a repeat… of whatever that business was before.”

“Me too, Mrs. Patmore. But I worry. I enjoy them getting along to the cold weather we had the past year. But I fear this friendship, I do. A hurt Thomas isn’t going to be good for this house, not at all.”

“No. No, not at all.” 

~~~

Jimmy followed Thomas right into his room. Thomas started to shed his livery right in front of him. Jimmy watched him and noting that did not bother him at all. Or scare him. He wasn’t worried about anything. At all. Thomas stopped undressing once he was down to his vest. His pants still on. Jimmy stood where he was, leaning against the wall by the door. He watched Thomas pull off his glove and suddenly he was feeling things. 

“Could I,” he started but his broke off. 

“What?” Thomas asked putting the glove on a table. 

“I mean…” Jimmy sighed. “Your hand.”

Thomas froze and looked down at his hand. He looked shocked to see it and maybe he hadn’t mean to to give Jimmy even a glimpse of it. Jimmy always wondered about it, it was hard not too. It was hidden under the glove, always, and probably for good reason. 

“You don’t have too…”

“Why is it your favorite song? Because your mother hummed it?” Thomas asked suddenly.

Jimmy felt himself blush and he nodded. It was personal. So personal. “She wanted to buy a piano. Her whole life she wanted to buy a piano.”

“Never had the money?”

“No. But she taught me songs, she could tell I heard the music like she did, I guess. I mean we never talked about it. So she hummed and sang things to me. But that was her favorite, and I guess that’s why it’s mine.”

“Must’ve been nice to have that connection with your mum.”

Jimmy heard both bitterness and sadness in Thomas’s tone and decided to simply share his own bitter thought. “It was… makes missing her harder.”

“But you played the song,” Thomas said and his gaze became scrutinizing. 

Jimmy held eye contact and nodded.

“Lady Anstruther’s piano is really the first you played?” Thomas asked suddenly after they were stood silent and staring for a beat too long.

Jimmy shrugged. “Yeah.” 

“You’re truly talented.”

“Just lucky, right?”

“More than that,” Thomas turned away from Jimmy. 

Jimmy felt something catch in his throat because he could guess why Thomas wasn’t looking at him then. No, he knew why. He was afraid of what Jimmy might see and Jimmy was too afraid to ask him to look back. But them Thomas did look back at him and he an odd look in his eyes. He stepped closer to Jimmy and then held out his left hand. 

He’d forgotten he’d asked Thomas about his hand. How had he forgotten that? Jimmy reached out and grabbed his wrist. Thomas stiffened for moment before he relaxed. Jimmy chose to ignore that altogether. He stared at the wound. Bullet through the palm, his ring finger and pink looked worse for wear but it wasn’t nearly as bad as Jimmy expected. He wasn’t sure what he had, maybe more gnarled and hole in his hand. Not a scarred wound, not fingers that still looked normal despite scarring. 

“Does it hurt?”

“Aches and tingles now and again. But not too badly, unless I over use it.”

“It’s not really all that bad looking…” Jimmy said.

Thomas laughed. “It’s bad enough.”

“No. How did it happen?”

Thomas looked away from him again and dug into his pocket. He pulled out two cigarettes, lit them both, then handed the other to Jimmy. He took it without thought and pulled on it, watching Thomas do the same with his own. Waiting to see if he would get an answer. He’d understand if he didn’t get one, Jimmy asked other soldiers before and sometimes they just couldn’t answer the question. 

“You’d think differently about me if you knew…” Thomas said, his voice quiet. 

“I doubt that…”

Thomas looked at him. “You called me brave.”

“And you are,” Jimmy said, guilt surfacing with the memory.

“But I’m not.”

Jimmy frowned because while he knew Thomas was really still a stranger to him. They hadn’t been friends near long enough for him to know everything. The one thing he was sure of when it came to Thomas Barrow was that he was brave. Truly brave. It wasn’t even just Thomas allowing himself to be beaten at the fair, though that had been moment Jimmy started see it clearly. 

“I’m not,” Thomas repeated reading Jimmy’s expression correctly.

“Tell me then,” Jimmy asked. It was a challenge. 

Thomas barked out an odd laugh. Then he looked at his hand, holding it in the other one before dropping it and folding his fingers into a fist. “I’d been on the front lines for two years. I was a medic. So many dead, so many dead. Legs and arms in need of amputations, blood and guts…. Brains.”

Jimmy felt sick, memories rising with the words. Memories he kept carefully buried. He knew he hadn’t seen near as much as Thomas. He’d been in the thick of it less than a year, much luckier than so man other men, but not lucky enough to never see war and the death that came with it. 

“I couldn’t… I would’ve gone mad, Jimmy.”

“Many did,” Jimmy said.

Thomas looked at him then and there was something truly vulnerable in his eyes that made Jimmy feel shot. “I had to get out, Jimmy. And I did.”

Jimmy eyes fell to Thomas’ hand and it became crystal clear. What he must have done? Had he really done what Jimmy was seeing in his mind’s eye. “You held up your hand?”

“With my lighter,” Thomas held he object up and the metal glinted in the light of the lamp. Jimmy stared at it and saw it lit, saw it lit and in Thomas’ left hand. The darkness and that eerie quiet that was felt before a shot would — always — kill the silence. 

“Brave.” Jimmy said without conscious thought. 

“No,’ Thomas argued. “Tired, selfish…”

“Wanting out wasn’t selfish. Survival, self-preservation… two years, your time was running out.”

“Exactly what I told myself.”

“True isn’t it.”

“Yes,” Thomas nodded. 

“Others did the same — well not the exact same. Don’t think too many would have the guts to do what you did.”

“Guts?”

“Hold your hand in the line of fire, knowing they’ll shoot at the fire you were holding?”

“Longest bloody moment of my life… Was probably less than three minutes.”

“It’s brave…” Jimmy said again.

“You really think that?”

Jimmy nodded. He knew it. He just knew that about Thomas. He couldn’t explain it because there were not words for things like that. “Yes.”

Thomas stared at him and his expression softened and Jimmy felt his throat dry. He would pretend though, pretend not to see what the expression meant. He could do that and he would. They were friends, he’d offered Thomas that and more and more he realized how much he’d meant it. 

“I should get to bed,” Jimmy said. 

“Yes…. Jimmy?”

“Yeah?” He said before closing Thomas’ door.

“Thank you for the song.”

“Better think about what you want me to play tomorrow.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for lack of any actual Thomas/Jimmy in this chapter. Blame Mrs. O'Brien.

Sarah O’Brien sneered as she walked into the servants hall and found Jimmy sitting on the piano bench, with Thomas leaning against the wall. There were talking, but she wasn’t at all interested in what they were saying. It just bothered her they were saying anything at all. She marveled at the change in the energy between them. When she left for Scotland, Jimmy been treating Thomas with derision and scorn. 

Truth be known she liked hearing the barbed comments, always said just loud enough for anyone around to hear. She thought the boy was still making sure no one doubted that he wasn’t that sort — that he would never lie with man. That’d been the easiest string she’d pulled when it came to Jimmy Kent.

But now he had her questioning it. And how could she not? With his complete about face. The way there were now was how they’d been before she started maneuvering them into her trap. Both of them vain and prideful. Both with a chip on their shoulder. They got along easily. The only change was Thomas wasn’t touching Jimmy. He wasn’t being too forward and too familiar. 

That had been her in. She encouraged Jimmy to accept it despite being put off by it — naturally of course. She’d pushed Thomas to see more in it all, letting things drop about Jimmy enjoying his company. Again she scowled at them. Her pawns behaving the opposite way she intended. 

There was one large change. While, Thomas dared not touch Jimmy. Jimmy was touching Thomas. He was stealing cigarettes directly out of Thomas’ pockets. She’d caught Jimmy touching his arm, his should. He would nudge Thomas’ shoulder, or bump their bodies together. 

The boy was being bold and familiar. When he’d been so easy to rile up. He’d gone into a temper at the thought of anyone thinking he was like Thomas Barrow. That he might want to kiss a man, lie with a man. Jimmy rushed to Carson, just how she wanted and almost destroyed Thomas’ life. Yet here he was now…fine with touching him, laughing with that man — in fact she thought they had inside jokes. In so short a time?

It made little sense. She doubted that finding out what the impetus for the shift in their dynamic was would answer any of her questions. Things didn’t change with a snap of a finger. No with change — even change that looked sudden — there were markers that told a journey. She just hadn’t seen what they were? She hadn’t been looking, of course, because she hadn’t expected this turn in the game.

She didn’t like Jimmy’s new attitude toward Thomas. Knowing the pain his hatred caused Thomas had been her consolation prize. He hadn’t been thrown out the door and ruined, but he had to face the constant reminder he was unwanted. With every barb from Jimmy’s mouth, she knew he was wounded afresh. 

They were too close too fast. She frowned as Jimmy started playing the piano. That horrible song he played that he obviously didn’t know at all. Always starting and stopping. Choppy and grating. They all praised him for his music, but he was no savant. The notes bothered her, it made the hair on her neck stand up. The music wasn’t for her. She wasn’t sure it was music. 

Thomas liked it though, it was clear in the expression on his face. He wasn’t as good as hiding his emotions as he thought. Most didn’t see past the mask because they’ve never looked. She had and there was a sensitive child underneath the haughty veneer. He loved the music, or rather the man playing it. Hearing it through blinders, she thought. It’s what gave him hope, fruitless and ill-advised hope. Maybe she couldn’t ruin him completely, not like her last attempt but maybe she could still mess with his heart. He won that round. He wouldn’t win the battle. He turned on her and she would not forgive betrayal. 

Her eyes fell onto Jimmy. He too betrayed her. He stepped back and turned around and changed sides. She frowned again, it nagged at her; no does an about face like that without reason. But she saw no reason. No reason at all. She was curious of the impetus, she’d have to speak with Alfred, figure out the right questions to ask in order to get the answer she seeks. It wont’ answer everything, it couldn’t, but it was a starting point. There was a missing piece, but she would figure out the puzzle. 

Jimmy Kent couldn’t hide from her. 

~~~

She found her moment to talk with Alfred the next day, when they were along in the boot room. He was helping her polish her Ladyships’s shoes. “How have things been going?”

“Ivy, still won’t go out with me. Jimmy’s barely speaks to her anymore, but it’s like that made it worse.”

“What, he’s lost interest in flirting with a pretty girl?”

“Ivy, anyway…. But she still wants him. I don’t get it.”

“She’d do better with you than that vain git.”

“He’s not that bad,” Alfred defended him.

She was reminded he was much like her sister, simple, kind, nice. She shook her head. “He is too, been leading her on hasn’t he just to mess with you. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself.”

“Don’t know about that… he and Mr. Barrow.”

She grinned. It was always best not to be the one to bring up the subject. “Something unnatural is going on there.”

“No. They’re just mates. It’s nothing like that…” she glanced up to see Alfred turned as red as her hair. 

“So, they tell you.”

“Aunt Sarah, please don’t try to cause trouble where it isn’t.”

She frowned at him. “What has Thomas ever done for you?”

“Jimmy’s me friend, maybe not a close one but he is and I have to work with him.”

“Friend is he, stealing your girl when he doesn’t even want her.”

“It’s just cause he’s bored… He’s always bored.”

She nodded at that. Jimmy was always complaining of boredom, of wanting to be in the city, living and doing things. Dancing with girls and listening to jazz. He wasn’t a country boy and he was only a footman for the money and maybe the attention his good looks offered. His ambitions were out of house — she could use that, that was good even if it wasn’t what she was looking for. 

“Is that why he’s sudden friends with Thomas.”

“Mr. Barrow and him, not really sure what changed.”

“Aren’t you?”

“No, not really… just know that after the fair it changed.”

“The fair?” she asked.

“Yeah. I mean we all went together. Told Jimmy no to be too bad with Mr. Barrow doing it, not ruin everyone’s time. But he made his usual cracks — especially about the rope pull. Though, I do say Mr. Barrow was a major factor in our win.”

“Mr. Barrow can pull a rope, can’t he…” 

“He was right strong, we all were. After that Jimmy went off to spend his winnings and I don’t know what Mr. Barrow did. Well until he was mugged.”

“Right the mugging.”

“Yeah, Jimmy told me later it was the guys we won against, the rope pull team — think we were the only ones to defeat them.”

Mrs. O’Brien looked up, that was new information. “Did he? Jimmy made a bet on that rope pull? Then those men attacked Thomas?”

“I guess.. I mean that’s what happened.”

“How did Jimmy know?”

“First to find him, he was… he ran to get the doctor.”

“Did he… He won a lot of money?” she asked. 

“Right lot, yeah. Thought he bet too much, a full quid but it worked out for him — though I think he used over half of it on drink. He was right drunk. Daisy said he was flashing it about — lucky him he wasn’t mugged, now that I think about it.”

“Yes. Lucky him, Jimmy,” She said. “Lucky him.”

“What did Thomas say, about them, the muggers?”

“Nothing really, just that they took all the money he had on him. Think they got his watch too. But no he doesn’t say much about it at all. Probably embarrassed for getting beaten.”

“He was quite beaten?”

“Could barely stand.”

“Really?” She shook her head. Thomas Barrow taking a beating for someone else? No, surely not… could it? She never seen him do anything that could be described as selfless in all the time she knew him. He could care though, deeply. She’d seen that well enough when he fell for that blind soldier, she never forgot that look in his eyes he had when talking about him. She’d seen a bit of that when he looked at Jimmy. She used it. He was sensitive, easily hurt really… 

Would he? 

He never spoke ill of Jimmy, not even after the boy told Carson to toss him out without a reference. He defended him. Stuck up for him. Put up with insubordination — something Thomas Barrow would never allow. His station as an Under Butler was to be respected. He’d given her more than one lick about , Alfred, Daisy, Mr. Bates. But Jimmy been the only one to ever truly disrespect it and not a peep.

“Well, I’ll never,” she exclaimed.

“What?” Alfred asked.

“Nothing for you to worry about, no nothing at all…”

~~~

“You have a secret,” she announced after stepping outside. She pulled out a cigarette and looked Jimmy in the eye.

He was smoking. Something he seemed to only do with Thomas but lucky for her he was nowhere in sight. Jimmy met her gaze and then looked away, dismissively. “Don’t we all.”

“Interesting people do, I suppose… but no, not everyone. But you do.”

“I guess I might have a few. Like you.”

She studied him. “I have no secrets.”

“Right. Thomas doesn’t have something on you.”

“Tell you that did he?” She wasn’t worried, Thomas hadn’t told a soul her secret. 

“Didn’t have too.”

“Right. You fancy yourself clever.”

“Aren’t I?” He said. 

“Oh, don’t be smug with me, James.”

“Then stop bothering me, Mrs. O’Brien.”

“I know the secret.”

“Do you?”

“You aren’t friends with Thomas.”

Jimmy snorted.

“Snort all you want. It’s obligation that has you playing nice.”

Jimmy paused a moment, just a moment, before he put his cigarette back in his mouth. It was quick but she’d been watching him and she felt triumph. “Been asking some questions, thinking about some things. I think those bruised ribs he had were meant for you.”

Jimmy was silent.

“He found himself the perfect way into your good graces didn’t he…”

“Found?”

“Thomas Barrow isn’t a hero.”

“What would you know about?”

“I’ve known him for years, he ever tell you how he got out of the war?”

Jimmy stared at her. Then he stepped toward her, using his full height. Then he smirked. “You, don’t know him as well as you think.”

“Oh, I think I do. Guilt isn’t the best of starters for friendship. Guilt is what it is, it’ll fade too — someone like you doesn’t get hung up on such things for too long. No you’re too vain for that, care what people think. And you know’ll what people will start to think the more you hang around with him.”

Jimmy paused again and he looked away from her. She watched him thought. He took a long drag of his cigarette, bringing it down to nothing. Then he dropped it onto the ground. He turned and blew out all the smoke in her face — it made her see Thomas. 

“He was following me…. We all know why.”

“Creepy that.”

Jimmy nodded.

“And you want to be friends with that?”

“I see it different, now.”

“Guilt is an odd motivator. He saves you, you feel you owe him.”

“I do owe him, you stupid witch. Because of what you made me do.”

“Oh, made you did I? Go to Carson and insist he gets no reference, you said the words.”

“You pushed me.”

“And suddenly you don’t worry about why you were so easy to push.”

Jimmy closed his eyes. 

She grinned.

“People will you know, think you can put up with that? Letting them assume.”

“Why do we keep having this same conversation?” Jimmy growled. “We’re done,” he walked into the house. 

“Following you was he? You know why!” She yelled after him. She laughed happily when the door shut in her face.


	13. Chapter 13

Thomas was lighting his cigarette feet from the door, in a hurry to suck one down. His morning felt like it was dragging. He fought to wake up, his hand was bothering him. All morning all he’d been looking forward to was nicking outside and smoking with Jimmy as company. Only the door flung open and Jimmy stalked down the hall at a good clip and knocked into his shoulder. Thomas barely heard a mumbled apology before Jimmy was gone from his sight. Before he could even wonder what that was all about the door opened a again and O’Brien walked inside. She smiled when she saw him, her selfish and happy smile when she succeeded in making trouble. He’d once liked seeing that smile, usually in the know and agreeing. Now it made him a bit nausea to see her make it — too many recent times of being on the bad end of it, he supposed. 

“Thomas.”

“Mr. Barrow, you mean.”

“Oh, of course. Mr. Barrow.”

“What did you say to him?”

“To who?”

“Jimmy.”

“Why would I say anything to him?”

“You did something,” he appraised her. 

“Just told him I figured it all out.”

“Figured what out?”

“Why he’s playing at being your mate.”

“He isn’t _playing_ ,” he said much more clipped than he meant too. The idea not foreign to his mind. 

“But isn’t he though… after what you did to him?” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Thomas said and focused on his cigarette.

“Oh we both know that’s a lie.” She pushed past him. “Enjoy him while it lasts.”

Thomas sighed. That was exactly what he was doing. He looked at the door to the outside and the cigarette in his hand. But he turned around and made his way to the servants hall and found Jimmy sitting at the piano, cigarette in hand and staring at the keys. He walked over and grabbed a nearby chair from the table and turned it toward the piano. “She’s a witch,” he said.

Jimmy snorted. “Worse than that, insult to witches I think.”

“What was it she said?”

“Does it matter?”

“Probably not,” Thomas said and watched the smoke that he blew out of his nose. 

“She figured out you took that beating for me.”

Thomas was surprised at that and found that it bothered him little she knew. She wouldn’t understand it though, she’d never do that for anyone. Not even her precious Alfred. 

“Tried to put it in my head you did it on purpose.”

“What?” Thomas exclaimed before his brain caught up to it. What would it look like to someone on the outside? Just like that, wouldn’t it? Thomas Barrow doing whatever he can to get what he wants. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Jimmy looked at him. 

“Fits though doesn’t it. Me, I mean.”

Jimmy stared at him.

“Habit of mine. Doing things for recognition.”

“Sod off, I know damn well you didn’t do it to gain anything.”

“Did though,” Thomas said. 

Jimmy smirked and looked away. 

“Do you believe her?”

“What? No?” Jimmy laughed. “If I was anyone else to you, maybe. I don’t know. If I was anyone else you’d be here haughtily defending yourself. Not… this.”

“If you were anyone else…” Thomas nodded. He had different rules for Jimmy Kent. 

“What’s got me upset?”

Thomas nodded that he wanted to know.

“She got under my skin on the other thing.”

“Other thing?”

Jimmy looked around the room, happy and surprised it was empty. “I let her push me into ordering Carson to make you leave with no reference.”

Thomas looked away. 

“I let her push me and… she got under my skin there a bit.”

“Can’t have the world thinking you’re like me.”

Jimmy stayed quiet.

“It’s all quite understandable… who would want to be… _foul_.”

“Shut up, you’re not foul,” Jimmy spat out. 

“No. But…”

“But she never understood.” Jimmy interrupted him.

“Understood?” Thomas looked back up and found Jimmy looking right at him.

“It worked for reasons that weren’t…” Jimmy looked away again. “I. She just doesn’t understand.”

Thomas was finding he didn’t either. “Jimmy?”

“I…” he looked at Thomas. They locked gazes for a long moment. Thomas trying to figure out what he saw in Jimmy’s expression. Confusion and anger. But he was feeling those things too and maybe he was just seeing it reflected. “She’s a witch. It doesn’t matter. I won’t let her get to me again,” Jimmy stood up. “I better get back to work.”

Thomas watched him walk out of the room. He frowned down at his cigarette. The day was going to on with itself as being long and annoying. He put his cigarette in his mouth and picked up his hand in his other. Rubbing at where it ached and tingled. Using it to distract his curiosity over what Jimmy wasn’t saying. 

~~~

He leaned against his usual spot on the wall. In the kitchen. He was early, but he wanted to clear his mind before dinner started. Not being muddled during service was to his benefit with Carson. 

His mind was all over the place. That frustrating and unwanted talk with O’Brien. Then Thomas. A reminder that when it came to him and Thomas, different rules applied. Jimmy wasn’t the rest of the world to Thomas. If Jimmy was being honest, Thomas never been the same as the rest of world to him. Otherwise he’d have been easy to ignore and avoid. It wouldn’t have taken him daily energy to hate him — he wouldn’t have hated him at all. It’d been insignificant. Nothing to Jimmy. Thomas was never nothing. 

Different rules. 

“You’re here,” Ivy said, grinning at Jimmy.

“Here all the time, aren’t I?” 

“Not lately.”

“Carson’s going to ring the gong soon.”

“In twenty minutes.”

“Guess, I’m ahead today.”

“I’m missed you,” Ivy said softly.

Jimmy held back a sigh. 

“You’ve been spending so much time with Mr. Barrow, lately.”

“What of it,” he accused.

She blinked at him. “Nothing, I was just saying.”

Jimmy felt guilty. Of course Ivy meant nothing. She was guileless. 

“It’s nice, I think, you’re getting along again.”

“Sorry, Ivy, just some been giving me problems about it.”

“Cause you were so mad at him before?”

He nodded.

“What as it about? No one would ever tell me.”

“And they never will,” Jimmy said.

“Why not?”

“Ivy? You don’t want to know.”

“Everyone is always saying those kind of things to me and Daisy. I think its unfair.”

“Neither is life.”

“You’re so cynical sometimes.”

“Be happy you’re not.”

“Group of us are planning on going to the pictures this weekend.”

“That’s nice.”

“You should come… you could ask Mr. Barrow.”

“Mr. Barrow isn’t going to go to the flicks with a bunch of maids.”

“Too good for us, he is?”

“He’s the under butler, Ivy.”

“He spends time with you.”

“That’s different.” _There is again._

“Right. What do you like about him anyway?”

“What isn’t there to like?”

Ivy looked at him. “It’s Mr. Barrow.”

“He’s not what people think.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Jimmy said. “They just don’t…”

“What?”

“Ivy? Have you ever wondered about what makes you different from someone else?” Jimmy eyes widened, why had he said that out loud. To her of all people. 

“Different?” she blinked at him. “I’m just like everyone else.” 

“Right? Yeah.” Jimmy shook his head.

“Mr. Barrow isn’t though, huh? Is that why you ask?”

“No.”

“Then why --“

“Ivy quit your gabbing and you go wait in the servant’s hall if you haven’t anything better to do,” Mrs. Patmore came in yelling. 

“Why does he have to leave?”

“Because he’s a distracting.”

“We’re only talking.”

“And isn’t that the problem.” Mrs. Patmore threw up her hands and glared at him. Jimmy gave her a look back, it wasn’t his fault Ivy was so soft on him. “Fine…” he walked out of the kitchen and into the servants hall. His eyes caught sight of the piano and he wondered why he hadn’t just been there in the first place. He walked over and started hitting random keys. He’d let the notes clear his head. 

~~~

Later that night Jimmy sat at the piano again, but he kept glancing over his shoulder. Where was he? They had a standing appointment didn’t they? The piano after servant’s dinner. But he’d disappeared after eating and Jimmy hadn’t seen him since. He’d managed to push the unsettled mood Mrs. O’Brien put him into earlier away — not gone but away. He wasn’t going to let her ruin this, he’d gotten used to this, he liked this — a lot. He liked playing the piano for Thomas. Thomas enjoyed it, truly, and it made something warm and fuzzy settle in Jimmy’s chest. It was a good way to end the mundane days of being a servant. He wasn’t getting bored of it at all, if anything he just wanted more. 

“Where’s Thomas?” he asked. 

Mrs. O’Brien shot him an odd look and then she scowled. 

Mr. Bates didn’t even look up. 

Anna looked around and shrugged. 

Mrs. Hughes gave him a friendly smile. “Haven’t seen him since he left the table.”

Jimmy frowned and got up. 

“Attached at the hip, are you?” O’Brien sniped.

“Maybe we are,” he snapped back at her. 

“Your life not mine.”

“That’s right,” he hissed, happy he was fully away from her. He stalked down the hallway for the second time in one day. This time though he was heading outside. He pushed open the door and felt hit by relief. Thomas was out there, he’d walked away from the door, towards the trees. Jimmy realized it was lightly raining and he found himself shivering as he made his way across the yard and toward his friend. 

“What are you doing out here?” Jimmy asked. 

Thomas turned toward him, blowing out smoke, expression neutral but Jimmy saw a bit of a surprise in his eyes. He couldn’t be surprised to see him, could he? Why would he be? 

“It’s raining,” Jimmy added. 

“Obviously.” Thomas raised his left hand and flexed his fingers. “Should’ve known it would be. Ached all day.”

Jimmy’s eyes found his hand. He remembered how O’Brien tried to insinuate Thomas did it out of cowardice. He’d hardened him even more against her and made it clear to him that one who’d never been Thomas’ friend was her. 

“What do you have on her?” Jimmy heard himself ask.

“What?”

“O’Brien? What is it?”

Thomas shook his head. 

“Yeah… never mind. Just like to throw something in her face.”

“I’m sure.”

“Why aren’t you inside?”

“Needed a smoke.”

“In the rain?”

“Can’t help the weather.”

“Thomas what about the piano?”

“What about it?”

“We have… we’re supposed to,” Jimmy felt his cheeks heat up and why was he stammering. “I thought we had standing appointment,” he finally spit out. 

“Oh,” Thomas was staring at him now, cigarette forgotten an inch away from his mouth. “I guess, I thought…”

“What?”

“Well, you said she got to you…. Thought, maybe you wouldn’t…”

“What want to hang out with my best mate.”

“Best?” Jimmy was sure he saw Thomas’ mouth drop open.

“Thomas, that witch isn’t about to…”

“Her Ladyship was pregnant and O’Brien thought — well her reason doesn’t matter — she left some soap on the floor, her Ladyship slipped and lost the baby. Believe it or not she’s never forgiven herself for it.”

Jimmy blinked. 

“Was sworn to secrecy, I was… I only told Mr. Bates to mention the soap.”

“That’s why you…” Jimmy shook his head and grinned. “That’s quite a thing to have over her.”

“It is and I appreciate it more every day.”

“I bet.”

“We should go inside,” Thomas said and he flexed his hand again. 

Jimmy watched that and wondered how often the hand did bother him? He never paid must attention to it before but now that he knew how it happened, had seen the wound itself. He touched his own hand, he felt all the bones and muscles that were in the place where a bullet had torn through Thomas’ flesh. 

“It okay?” he asked motioning toward his hand.

“It’s fine, Jimmy.”

“Okay. So what do you want me to play?” Jimmy asked as they walked inside.

“You do know the week of requests is over.”

“I know. But….”

“Whatever you like to, Jimmy.”

“Even if I just noodle around?”

Thomas gave him a wide smile. “That would be quite fine.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Jimmy wasn’t sure why anyone would want to listen to his half-thought out attempts at his own music. He didn’t even know how to write it down, had to keep it all in his head. But he couldn’t stop trying anyway and if Thomas didn’t mind listening to it maybe it wasn’t half bad.


	14. Chapter 14

Jimmy was playing the piano. Thomas was watching his hands. It was all he could see. The slid across the keys, pushing down with varied strength or lightness. It was dizzying and the music melodic. He licked his lips and watched Jimmy’s hands pressing against the ivory and the music started to echo around them. They were alone. Thomas moved to the bench and Jimmy’s eyes slid down his profile, a sly smile twisting up the corners of his mouth. His hands were under Jimmy’s then, trapped, pushed down, strong hands putting Thomas’ fingers where he wanted them to be. The music changed, darker and deeper and lonely. 

“It’s you,” whispered in his ear, Jimmy’s voice vibrated. 

Thomas held his breath and watched their hands moved together. Notes plunking and pinging, wandering but repeating. Then it slow shifted, grew lighter but remained low. It moved and spun, and Thomas inhaled deeply for breathe. 

“It’s us…” Jimmy whispered, his voice echoed in Thomas’s ear. “Thomas.”

His head fell back and lips were against his neck and Jimmy’s hand was wrapped around his cock. Jimmy hummed against his skin, vibrating and echoing around them and Thomas felt every note as Jimmy pulled his hand down his cock and stroked back up. 

“I know what you want,” Jimmy spoke in notes, his lips pressed under his ear and his hand twisted on his cock. The music filled him up inside out and all he felt was it and Jimmy’s hand. His eyes fluttered closed and he felt words against his neck, hummed into his skin. 

“It’s us.”

“Jimmy,” his voice echoed and faded into he music. 

“Us,” he hummed. 

“Jimmy.”

“I know what you want.”

“Yes,” Thomas whispered. 

Jimmy’s hand tightened, twisted and took. Thomas’s head was thrown back, arms around him, and Jimmy’s mouth against his neck, humming their song into his skin… 

Noise broke through the lighter refrain. Loud, cacophonous and buzzing. Jimmy was sliding away, his music fading away. Thomas fought to reach out but there was no one there, and there was only noise where there had been sound.

“No,” Thomas woke up alone and hard. Mind fighting to grasp for the music, for the sound of Jimmy in his ear, for the feeling of his touch against Thomas’s skin. But the dream drifted away, leaving him with nothing but want and an alarm blaring in his ear. He grabbed the clock, he stopped its racket but stayed where he was, staring up at the ceiling. 

He closed his eyes. Trying to remember the energy of the dream, the sound of the dream. Was it Jimmy’s refrain? It was usually Jimmy’s refrain, but sometimes it wasn’t, sometimes it was another song, another thought altogether. Thomas blew out a long puff of air, he couldn’t remember the dream, all he held was a knowing that it’d been beautiful. Jimmy been whispering to him? Talking? 

He looked down the length of his body, he saw his erection tenting his pants and he rolled his eyes. He looked at the time and saw he had very little to spare if he wanted to start his day on time. It was freezing when he pushed away his blankets, which helped to distract his body. He let his bare feet hit the cold floor. He stood up and pulled off his pajama top and walked to bureau. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. 

Dark hair shading his angular features of his face. Thatches of dark hair across his chest and his stomach, made starker by his pale skin. He was lean. Handsome. Male. He felt a ghost of a memory, of dream Jimmy holding his cock and wanting him. But looking at himself now, he knew it impossible… he wasn’t feminine. Even if he was, there was no hope, but maybe he could have deluded himself into believing a maybe. 

 

“Stop, you know what you are.” He didn’t want delude himself. No false hopes. Jimmy would only ever want him in his dreams. It was okay, some things were meant for dreams. Wasn’t as if he recalled the details. Just the loss. Thomas ran his hands over his face again, feeling his whiskers against the skin of his palm. Sticking into his skin and waking him up further. This was reality, it was time to become presentable. 

It started raining before he finished shaving. His left hand was aching from a week of damp weather. He put down the razor blade and looked at his hand. The wound healed better than the doctors had told him to expect. But it was a gunshot wound to his hand and it caused problems. Things hadn’t healed completely right, he knew that — but he was lucky. They’d healed well enough and he could function with it and function he would. 

He’d had worse days with it than this. No one knew, no one saw it. They weren’t looking. It was fine with him, he didn’t want their pity or their false sympathies. If any of them knew what he’d done they’d think him a coward — he knew Bates assumed. He knew Bates never thought a good thing about him. He hadn’t helped Thomas for Thomas. No it’d been about honor, or whatever it was that kept a man like Bates awake at night.

He flexed his fingers and rubbed his palm a few times before deciding it wasn’t helping and turned to finished getting dressed and ready for the day. He doubled checked himself in the mirror before he left him room. Not a hair out of place, all buttons match, not a spot on the white shirt or his black tails. Carson was exact but Thomas was too — nothing was more important that looking the part. 

Thomas left his room and headed downstairs. He checked that the kitchen staff were already up and running, as well as the house maids. He made his own way upstairs to help them out — everyone was pulling extra duties they never would have thought of from the time before the war. He opened windows and fluffed pillows on the couches and chairs. He checked everything was in its proper place. He frowned seeing someone moved a small clock from the mantle of the fireplace in the drawing room to a side table. Picking it up, he frowned at the time on the face of it before putting it down. He checked his watch and it was off by a good five minutes. That wouldn’t do, so he picked up again and headed back down stairs. 

He was reaching for the door to the servants stairs when it opened and Alfred charged forward and right into him. Knocking him off balance enough the clock slipped out of his grasp. He had to lunge for it, reaching out and he caught it just in time with his left hand but it being heavy he didn’t get a good grasp but had to hold on tight until he could his right hand onto it. 

“Sorry, Mr. Barrow,” Alfred offered.

“You bloody well should be,” Thomas snapped. “Do you watch where you’re going at all?”

“I’ll pay more attention in the future.”

Thomas sneered at him not believing a word he was saying. Alfred always had one foot in the kitchen. He couldn’t be bothered with doing the job as footman with any level of efficiency. “Do.”

Alfred stood where he was.

Thomas huffed at him. “Are you going to just stand there or do your job?”

“Yes. Mr. Barrow,” Alfred took off. 

Thomas wanted a cigarette. He wanted to close his eyes and not open them again for a week. His hand hurt now. It wasn’t a nebulous ache, or a bit of tingling. It hurt and it was tingle. It felt stiff and strained. He flexed it twice as he made his way downstairs with the clock. He knocked on Carson’s door and the butler said enter. 

He walked in and held up the clock. “This was moved last night for some reason, but when I went to put it back saw it’s running slow. I’ll see if I can fix it, today.”

Carson surveyed him and the clock. 

“The drawing room, clock?”

Thomas nodded.

“Very well, yes. I’ll inform his Lordship.”

Thomas nodded.

“Wait a moment, Mr. Barrow,” Carson got up waved at table of full of the more expensive crystal ware the family owned. In front of it was a tray full of crystal. “There having important guests tonight. All this needs to go upstairs. I’ll put it in your charge.”

Thomas looked at it all and felt his hand throb, though he was sure most of it was in his head. “Very well, Mr. Carson,” he said. He stepped out of the room and brought the clock into the boot room to put it away in a safe place. It would be hours before he could really get a look at it. He turned to leave and Jimmy was there. His mouth went dry and he felt the ghost of lips against his neck — was that the dream. 

“Good morning, Mr. Barrow.” He flashed a smug grin. 

Thomas fought the urge to smile back and he looked over Jimmy’s shoulders. He gotten used to dealing with seeing Jimmy after having dreams about him. But this time felt different to him for some reason. He had many since they’d become friends, so he didn’t understand why — perhaps it was just because they were becoming closer. 

“After your morning duties, I’m going o near your help carrying up the crystal that’s to be used for dinner tonight,” Thomas said, all business after forcing himself to make eye contact with Jimmy.

Jimmy nodded. “I better go get the silver on the table.”

“Yes, you should, James,” Thomas said. 

Jimmy flashed him a smug grin before he disappeared out of sight. 

He let out the breath he was holding. That smile, it almost like he knew. But he did know, didn’t he? He knew Thomas’s feelings, he wasn’t a prude, he probably knew where Thomas’ thoughts could stray. Jimmy was being cocky, he was arrogant. He knew the power his good looks afforded him, that was all that happened. But Thomas felt fear sharply rush through him. Fear that their friendship would fade away as quickly as a dream. 

~~~

Jimmy watched as Thomas immediately flexed his left hand and rotated his wrist after putting down a tray of crystal. It was the third tray Thomas had carried up and the third time Jimmy watch him do it. He put down his own tray and looked at the table. 

“Why don’t you start setting the table?”

“No, Carson wants it all up now,” Thomas said and started toward the servants stairs. Jimmy walked behind him. “I’ll grab Alfred.”

“Alfred has the silver to polish.”

Jimmy followed him down the stairs. Once in Carson’s office he pushed past Thomas and tried to ascertain what was the heaviest of the six trays left. “They aren’t going to use all of this?”

“They’re entertaining and I think trying to show that Downton is still a viable upstanding house. It’s for show more than anything.” 

Jimmy watched him flex his hand. He reached out an picked up the most loaded of the trays. The weight of it surprised him more than he thought it would and he struggled for a brief second before finding his balance. 

“Be careful.”

“Always am,” Jimmy winked at him. 

He saw the corners of Thomas mouth twitch up before he realized why he’d garnered such a reaction from the other man. He expected a rush of anger to fill him. For him to lash out at himself or Thomas. For him to start worrying about everything and that unsettled mood to descend again but it didn’t — or maybe it didn’t get a chance too. Because Thomas rubbed the palm of his hand and Jimmy focused in the action. He watched him rub his palm, then he watched him reach out and pick up the tray. Jimmy’s eyes darted to his face and he saw the wince. It was a second, but it was there, pain, before Thomas’s controlled expression reappeared. 

Thomas gave him a look worthy of Carson seeing him still standing where he was. “Get a move on, James.” 

Jimmy started walking. He ended up following Thomas. Up and down the stairs, hoping he was taking the heavier loads and watching him rub his palm, or flex is fingers, or rotate his wrist. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Thomas’ hand for the rest of the day. Every time they past in the halls, his eye fell to it and his brow would furrow. Because Thomas was being careful with it, Thomas was cradling it. Thomas was hiding a wince and no one was noticing it. 

He walked into the servants hall, having nicked some tea from the kitchen hours later and found Thomas alone in the servants hall, working on the clock Jimmy saw him carrying earlier. 

Jimmy slid into the seat next to him. Moving the chair so he could get a good look at what Thomas was doing with the clock. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Slow,” Thomas said. “Rather do this outside in daylight, but this will have to do.”

“So you can fix it?”

“Yes.”

Jimmy watched Thomas, watched him fiddle with small parts of the clock with swift concentration. His fingers picking up the small parts, with careful grace. He watched as every time Thomas went to move his left hand, he winced ever so slightly. Jimmy watched it happen four times, before Thomas sat back and pulled out two cigarettes. 

“Why aren’t you playing?” Thomas asked. 

“What?”

He glanced at the piano.

Jimmy shrugged and then took the offered cigarette. Thomas inhaled a long drag off of his and his eyes fell to his hand. Jimmy opened his mouth, but he didn’t know what to say, or what to ask. He frowned and watched Thomas get back to work on the clock. He hadn’t taken a very long break. He watched Thomas using both hands and the slight winces that Thomas couldn’t hide from his prying eyes. 

“You don’t have to watch you know,” Thomas said. 

“It’s interesting,” Jimmy lied. He was playing no attention to the clock.

Thomas looked up at him.

“It is,” Jimmy dug his heels in on the lie.

Thomas shook his head.

Jimmy started counting winces. He counted palm rubs. As Thomas flexed his hand for the twentieth time,. Jimmy jumped out of his seat and stalked into the kitchen. He went to where Mrs. Patmore kept the basic medical supplies and pulled out a thing of powder, found glass and went out putting the water and powder together. Then he stalked back into servants hall. 

Thomas looked up when he walked in. “What’s…. You have a headache.”

“It’s for you,” Jimmy said and put the glass in front of Thomas.

“Me?”

Jimmy sat back down in the chair next to Thomas. “Don’t pretend you don’t know why.”

Thomas sighed and he reached out with his right hand and grabbed the glass. He drank it down. “It won’t really help much.”

Jimmy frowned and he grabbed Thomas hand. He pulled off the glove. It was red and felt warm. Probably from Thomas touching it all day. “What works,” he massaged the palm. Feeling his finger tips touch the marred skin. “Does it help at all, just a bad habit you have?”

“Sometimes it helps,” Thomas said his voice low.

Jimmy kept rubbing it, applying pressure. He felt Thomas relax next to him, his back gone straight when Jimmy grabbed his hand. It made him smile a bit. “You shouldn’t have carried all those trays.”

“It’s fine. Just wrenched a bit catching the clock.”

Jimmy shook his head and kept massaging Thomas hand. “You shouldn't hide it.”

“It’s fine.”

Jimmy shook his head and watched his fingers work into Thomas’ skin. His skin tan against Thomas’s pale white. Thomas hand warm in his, his own getting warmer. It felt like Thomas was relaxing, his hand was looser in Jimmy’s grip. It felt good to be helping him, even if it was in such a tiny way. He found himself rubbing his thumb in a circle on the back of Thomas hand as he pressed his fingers against his palm. 

“Jimmy,” Thomas' voice was all breath.

Jimmy looked up and felt his cheeks instantly flush hot. Thomas’s eyes dark, his cheek were red and his mouth parted. He was looking at Jimmy, but Jimmy felt like he was being stared into. He’d seen this look again, but it was different, it was wrecked. He’d wrecked Thomas. He felt his hand on Thomas’s hand and he kept massaging despite the voice saying to let go… 

He looked away Thomas and cleared his throat. But he didn’t stop, he couldn’t and that unsettled feeling he’d expected to hit him earlier came rushing at him. It was all too much, but he kept hold of Thomas hand anyway. 

“Jimmy, stop…” it was a plea. 

He let go.

Thomas started cleaning the table off of clock parts. 

“Thomas…”

“Just go…. Please?”

Jimmy nodded even though Thomas wasn’t looking at him. He got up. But he couldn’t leave. Not yet. Despite the urge to run, to run and hide. To push all the questions and confusion away, as he always has. It’s his habit and it’s well established. But he stood there not ready to move yet, not yet. 

“Did it help… With the hand?”

Thomas stilled. Then he nodded. 

Jimmy left then, almost at a run.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Way shorter chapter than usual. But it felt right. Hope you enjoy.

Jimmy’s heart was pounding. He’d stripped down to nothing but his underwear. He was hot. He felt like heat was waving off of him. He kicked off all the covers. He was breathing too hard and fast. He clutched the sheet underneath him with his hands. He closed his eyes but they flew open seconds later. He was fighting not to think but the truth was he couldn’t stop. 

He could feel Thomas’s hands still wrapped up in his. He could feel his fingers pressing into his palm, his thumb stroking the back of his hand… He could feel the warmth of Thomas’ skin. The softness of it. 

_Jimmy._

He shivered. His name an exhale of shaky breathe from Thomas. It’d been rough and soft all at once. Emotions unnamed voiced with one word. His name. Spoken like no one ever had and probably no one else ever would. 

He closed his eyes again. They flew open as he let out his own shaky breathe, remembering looking up and seeing Thomas staring at him with naked want. Pure attraction and lust. Heat and cold rushed through Jimmy in tandem, sending a shiver down his spine and his cheeks to flame. 

_Stop._

The hurt and pain. It was a slap. That naked look on Thomas’ face, his name a broken whisper on Thomas’ tongue. He hurt him. He hurt him when he wanted to do was help him. 

“What were you bloody thinking?” he said into the darkness. 

You weren’t… never do, do you?

He was in pain, Jimmy thought. Thomas spent the day in pain, hiding it and no one else noticed him wincing. No one else noticed him forcing himself not to favor his left hand. No one else looked twice at him.

_You did it too, thought he wasn’t more than his armor._

There been no armor between them when Thomas begged him to stop. Begged him to stop. He’d wanted to run, after hearing and seeing Thomas so stripped bare. But he asked first if he helped his hand — it’d been his only goal.

_Hadn’t it?_

He felt trapped in his skin. He fidgeted on the bed, trying to get comfortable. But he couldn’t. Every position was wrong. Every movement just made it all worse. He felt trapped inside of himself. His skin was too tight and he was too hot, and he breath was too rough. He was trembling. He was fighting away thoughts he didn’t want to have.

Jimmy allowed one of the thoughts he was running from to surface; _You enjoyed seducing him._

~~~

He went outside. It was pouring rain and he stepped out into it. Hoping it could wash away the heat that was burning in his veins. He was painfully hard and he was trembling. He was close to crying. He was angry and he was heart-broken. He was confused. 

He lit a cigarette. A practice routine. A deep inhale. A tradition. Something to help clear his mind. Calm is thoughts. Center himself. It gave him something to with his hands. The smoke an armor that he could use to keep people more at a distance. 

He never should have asked Jimmy to be his friend. Arousal pounded through him and he tipped his head back, letting the rain hit his flushed face. It was more than lust, though. It was more than that and it scared Thomas. 

It was always there. The moment he saw Jimmy he felt connected to him. Something had pinged inside of him the minute he met Jimmy’s eyes. And it’d felt so right. 

He saw him. He was lonely. Prideful. He was bright. He had a talent that most people were blind too. Thomas saw it all, he couldn’t keep his eyes off him He wanted things Jimmy could never give him. Jimmy’s voice echoed in his head, saying it — over and over. Because Thomas had to remind himself

It was mistake. This friendship. He felt more and it was getting worse. He was falling harder and harder. Jimmy wanted to spend time with him. Jimmy wanted to know things about him. Jimmy wasn’t judging him. Jimmy wanted to help him. 

Thomas looked down at his hand. He could feel Jimmy fingers. His palm tingled where Jimmy’s fingers had pressed into his damage skin. It wasn’t the painful spikes from an aching hand. No it was ghost of a wanted touch. He thought about Jimmy’s hands, Jimmy fingers effortless playing the piano. He thought about the strength he’d felt as Jimmy pressed and pressed against his skin, massaging out the physical ache and creating the emotional one. 

He was wrecked. He exhaled a cloud of smoke and took in sharp breath and realized he was crying. It hurt. He hurt. He was stinging. He felt broken, Jimmy’s good intentions had shattered him into pieces and had him questioning everything. He thought he could handle it, a friendship, he thought he could settle for it. He even hoped it help his feelings ebb away, if not fade away completely.

The opposite was happening. He was more attracted. He was more drawn into him. He was settling and he hated it. He hated that he could only have a friendship. 

Thomas closed his eyes. He didn’t want to resent Jimmy. He didn’t want his cruelty to ever touch him. He didn’t want to lash out toward him. The thought terrified him. 

_End it._

He hated himself immediately for thinking it. It wasn’t going to be easy. This would happen again. And again. He was attracted to Jimmy, he loved him. It would hurt it couldn’t be more than friendship. It would. He’d have dreams about him. He might even continue to fall harder and harder in love with him. 

But he would have Jimmy. 

At least a part of him. “It will have to be enough.”


	16. Chapter 16

Jimmy splashed cold water on his face. It was the third time he done so and he wasn’t even sure why. He was shaking. He gotten no sleep. With his eyes open he saw Thomas’ dark eyes and trembling lips. With his eyes closed he felt Thomas’ hand in his own and felt his own heartbeat in his throat. He woke up countless times gasping for breath and for it all to just stop. He just wanted to offer Thomas comfort. That was all. He hadn’t meant… 

To turn him on. 

The truth of it. The thought he couldn’t hide from. His fingers pressed into Thomas’ hand had turned him on enough that in a broken voice Jimmy been told to stop. Told to leave. How could he look at Thomas after that? Did he apologize? _You wouldn’t mean it._

His cheeks flamed and he splashed more water over his face. His was shaking and concerned. Jimmy stared at himself in the mirror. Taking in his face. His lips, his yes, his cheekbones. He was handsome. Very handsome. Women stared at him everywhere he went. Women loved him. They wanted him. Based on his face. Just his face. He was Jimmy Kent, happily at any woman’s service. 

He liked being wanted. Was that all it was with Thomas, last night? Just his enjoyment of people wanting him, the power he felt, the surge of pride… Pride? No, a man wasn’t supposed to feel pride at making another man want him? Men weren’t meant to want men? Jimmy frowned and watched his brow furrow in the mirror. Who did that voice belong? It was monotone, it held no personality. Was just the world at large? Things he heard in church before he stopped going? Tired of being told his lustful thoughts would land him hell? 

Lust was a sin. All lust? Why did they sell hell harder when it was between men? What was the damn fear? What was the problem? Why was he thinking about all of this? 

He needed to stop shaking. A footman couldn’t shake. Too many platters of food and dishes, he had to be calm. He had to brace himself for seeing Thomas. Maybe it won’t be awkward, maybe it won’t be awkward at all. 

How could not be?

What did he do? Jimmy closed his eyes and shook his head. Comfort, he wanted to give him comfort. That was all. It wasn’t bad a thing. It’d been complicated by Thomas’ feelings for him, by Thomas’ attraction to men. Jimmy nodded to himself. If he held a woman’s hand when he took her out it meant something. It was how it worked. And he hadn’t thought it at all through, he never did. Thinking things through made life endlessly dull. 

“So, stop thinking. Giving yourself a headache.” He grabbed his hairbrush, glanced at the time. He was running late. He better be on time if there was a chance breakfast for the Crawley’s might fall out of his hands. 

~~~

Thomas finished shaving. He stared at himself in the mirror. He thought he might look paler. But his cheekbones stuck out at the high angle they had and his lips looked too red. He wondered if it was that, that made people look at him and know? Or was it where he looked, eyes never pausing on a beautiful woman. He closed his eyes and stepped away from the mirror and started to get dressed. 

Should I apologize? He laughed at that thought, of course not. He wasn’t wrong there, he wasn’t at all. It wasn’t his fault, he is who is and Jimmy knows it. Maybe he should mad at him, yell at him? Tell him to never ever do it again? Should he? 

It’s a mistake. This friendship.

Maybe he was right — probably. But he wouldn’t end it, he couldn’t. He had pride but it had its limits. He’d take Jimmy Kent in anyway shape or form he could have him. It would never be — could never be — what he truly wanted but he’d make do with something. 

The world told him he should get nothing. He’d take what he could. Thomas would always take what he could. Good or bad, it didn’t matter. Things would end, at some point, they always did. So he’d grab on tighter and be greedy. 

He deserved what he wanted. 

Thomas sighed. It was all well and good, but he still didn’t know what he’d do when he saw Jimmy. Do they ignore it? What if Thomas tries that rout and Jimmy brings it up? Should he let Jimmy take the lead? He’s the one that did it? He’s the one who brought want and passion between them. Thomas knew he knew that, Jimmy wasn’t stupid. 

Except for when he reached for hand? Why had he done that? Why had he offered him his touched in the first place? Maybe Thomas should tell him, no. Tell him never again. It was too much. Or would Jimmy figure it out. He was smart — clever. 

Thomas glanced at the clock. He had to get downstairs. 

~~~

Jimmy stepped out of his room and froze. Down the hall, Thomas was standing in the hall having just closed his door behind him. Their eyes met and Jimmy felt his breath burn in his lungs. They stood there, looking at each other, eyes locked. 

Until Molesley stepped out of his room.

Jimmy instantly started walking. Thomas was four steps ahead of him. Molesley voice in his ears. “Is there something wrong?”

~~~

Thomas shuddered as he heard Molesley. It was too close to what been said at the servant’s hall breakfast after the night he kissed Jimmy. The memory flashed through his mind and tied right into Jimmy’s hand on his. It was all tied up in the same attraction and stupidity. He shouldn’t have reacted like that? It wasn’t meant — Jimmy could never. Thomas sighed, he couldn’t help how he was… It was Jimmy’s fault this time. If only Thomas could bring himself to mad at him for it. But he couldn’t and it stunned him. He was a mad person, he was angry. He hated and lashed out over small things all the time. But with Jimmy — different rules. 

He didn’t even understand it himself. Jimmy walked in and Thomas put him in a category he never knew existed his head. Not Philip, Not Edward, no one else from his past. They were men he was attracted too, men he thought he loved — he questioned that now. 

What the hell was so special about Jimmy Kent? 

Thomas found himself chuckling as he walked into the servants hall. He could spend all day answering that, but it wouldn’t answer the question of why… And maybe there was no answer. Maybe it was just that he loved Jimmy. 

Loved him from the moment he walked into his life. It was romantic. It was irrational. It was a mystery and it maddening. He fell for a man he could never have at first sight. Maybe he wasn’t meant to be happy?

~~~

Fucking Molesley, Jimmy muttered. He followed Thomas down the stairs. Watching the other mans coattails bounce up and down in the air. He watched Thomas walk and wanted to hurry up and step in sync with him. Talk as they made their way down the stairs. Like they’ve done a million times in the past weeks. But he didn’t dare. He didn’t dare because he didn’t know what to say? 

He couldn’t ask about his hand, which was the main thought on his mind. And how stupid was that? How is your hand, being the only question he can come up with. It’d be the worse question to ask, Thomas, after last night. Maybe Jimmy should never think of his hand again? No, that’d be being a bad friend. Thomas pushed himself with it, Jimmy was sure of it now — Thomas should take care of himself.

No one ever told him too in his life, Jimmy thought. Maybe his mother? But Thomas felt like Thomas was never given enough comfort. He didn’t know, Jimmy thought. Maybe it was it’d gone from comfort to seduction so quickly, Thomas didn’t know how to react to kindness. Jimmy seen it, he had and until recently he’d been nothing close to kind toward Thomas.

_Want to make up for it._

Kindness and comfort. Friendship. _Seduction._ Jimmy shook his head at that thought and stepped into the servants hall. He watched Thomas walk around the table before deciding to get to his chair from the opposite direction. He would have to pass him otherwise. He laughed a bit at that. He was avoiding him as he was settling on how important it was to offer Thomas his kindness and comfort. 

Just how to do it without seducing him — he grabbed his chair a bit hard. It was his ego, it was ego that had him enjoying the seduction. He didn’t want to seduce Thomas. It wasn’t that that had him enjoying it. It was just… it was just…

His ego and his more open point of view on men like his friend. They weren’t wrong, the signals weren’t all that different than they were between a man and a woman. He and Thomas had to just… find a way to navigate their friendship. Then they’d avoid moments like last night. Then Jimmy wouldn’t feel hot and wrong in his own skin. He wouldn’t have to spend the night staring at his ceiling and trying to not see how Thomas looked at him with unadulterated want. 

No one. No one women had ever looked at him that way. 

He shoved that thought away as quickly as it came and sat down. Glancing across Anna toward Thomas. Thomas looked right at him, as if he’d felt the stare and had to look at Jimmy to know for sure. They stared again, just looking at the other one. Jimmy started to silently beg Thomas to say something. And he thought maybe he saw the same plea in his friend’s gray eyes. 

~~~

“Is everything okay?” Anna asked. Startling Thomas. She was looking between him and Jimmy. He watched Jimmy grab his tea and nod.

“It’s fine.”

“Yes, fine,” Thomas agreed and reached for his own cup of tea. 

“Are you sure?”

“Of course,” they both said.

The unison seemed to settle Anna. She smiled a bit at the two of them and reached for her tea herself. Thomas relaxed at her motion. He wanted to glance back at Jimmy but didn’t dare do it. Staring was getting them in trouble and it was all they seemed to be able to do. One of them was going to have to find the strength to speak first. 

Thomas feared it was him and he nearly dropped his tea cup. He wasn’t ready for that and he had nothing to say. He didn’t know how to broach the subject. Friends don’t have conversations about how the other one accidentally turned them on. He smiled at the thought, because it was absurd, it really was. He just wished he knew what to do about it all and put it past them. He wanted this friendship, he needed Jimmy. He did. He was tired, tired of being alone. 

Always alone. But not when he had him, when he had Jimmy’s friendship he wasn’t alone. He had to figure out what they were going to do? A plan. He had to come up with a plan and relay to Jimmy. Something. There had to be a way for them to get through what Thomas’ attraction had done to them the night before.

The answer was simple, Thomas knew that, but the saying of it, the form it should take. No that needed careful thought and careful phrasing. Thomas glanced over toward to Jimmy, unable not too. 

Blue eyes locked with his.

He forced himself to smile. 

Jimmy smiled back.

Thomas nodded.

Jimmy returned it. 

Thomas felt relief wash through him, realizing in that moment what he was most worried about had been if Jimmy wanted them to get through it at all. If last night had been too much for the other man to take. That’d he run having been reminded of Thomas’ sexuality. 

But he wasn’t and Thomas felt himself breathe easier. His mind falling back onto all the other worries, but they felt easier now to think about. To tackle. By tonight he’d have a plan. 

~~~

Jimmy grinned back a Thomas’ smile. Something eased up in his chest and he turned back to his breakfast and realized just how hungry he was. This was going to be okay. Thomas wasn’t going to withdraw, Jimmy been afraid of that — that’d he decide their friendship was a mistake. In a short time, Thomas had become the most important person in his life. He felt like he wasn’t alone anymore. 

He’d been alone so long. 

He frowned a bit, the thought forming that Thomas been the most important to him in the house even when he was trying his best to hate him. Thomas had always mattered and Jimmy let himself and Thomas think he hadn’t. That couldn’t be the case anymore, never again. 

He didn’t know how he was going to speak to Thomas yet. The night before still caused a shiver up his spine when he thought about it. The weight of Thomas’ hand and the weight behind his gaze when Jimmy looked up and saw open want.

It couldn’t have happen again, Jimmy reminded himself. It couldn’t happen again, he couldn’t do that Thomas. It’d been cruel, he’d felt that, and even though a part of him loved having that power. He wanted to be kind to Thomas. But he was the one with the power to destroy. Maybe he should apologize? Maybe that isn’t a bad idea at all, maybe it’s the right way to go forward. The first step past it all, and then they could go back to being them.


	17. Chapter 17

Thomas made his way downstairs. The day had been busy and his mind distracted which meant he had a long day of having to double and triple check his work. Last thing he wanted was Carson lecturing him on things he knew how to do in his sleep. It was late, he saw glancing at a clock but he disappointed not to hear music. He hoped Jimmy would be in the servants hall, playing, and waiting for him. 

At least the thought their last glance over breakfast had meant that. That they would meet after everything for the family was done and they’d deal with what was going on with their day. Thomas felt his heart start to speed up, at the thought of Jimmy, at the memory of the night before. 

Blood rushed through him, heating his cheeks and he hardened in his pants. He gritted his teeth, trying to counteract his body’s natural impulse. Not here, not down here. He wasn’t alone. They’d been blessed to be alone the night before — if someone had found Jimmy rubbing his hand. Thomas shook his head, no, no, it was him who’d found it erotic. The action itself wasn’t. Jimmy meant nothing. 

Jimmy hadn’t meant make his breathing ragged. He hadn’t meant to cause Thomas’s whole body to feel too warm. Jimmy hadn’t meant to make his cock swell and press against the fabric of his pants, which couldn’t give the kind of friction he craved. But Thomas felt that friction, felt it in the strength of Jimmy pressing his fingers against Thomas scarred palm. He felt every press fly from his hand to his cock. 

“Thomas…”

Thomas blinked and saw Daisy looking up at him. He blinked at her and didn’t bother to remind her to call him Mr. Barrow. 

“Are you well?” she asked. 

“What? Yes, yes. Don’t worry about me,” he gave her his standard smile.

“Okay, then…” she hurried on past him and into the kitchen.

Thomas scolded himself. All day, all day he hadn’t given into that memory. Now that he had, it wouldn’t be easy to push away and he had to talk with Jimmy. They had to discuss it — somehow — without discussing it. He wished there wouldn’t have to be a conversation. But if he wanted to keep Jimmy. If he wanted to keep Jimmy’s friendship. A conversation was needed. Their awkward glances over breakfast made that much clear. One the brighter side, it was also clear that Jimmy wasn’t going to take the friendship he offered back. He wasn’t running, despite knowing what he done to Thomas with his simple gesture. 

Thomas walked into the servants hall, already tugging his cigarettes out of his pocket. He frowned when we saw Miss O’Brien sitting there with a pile of darning in front of her. He moved around to the rocking chair and settled into it and looked over toward the piano. Jimmy was sitting on the bench but he was turned the wrong direction and was in conversation with Alfred and hall boy. Thomas picked up the paper and opened it up. He picked up a word here or there. Something about music or the pictures. He tried not to glance over the paper and toward Jimmy too often. 

“Things aren’t so cozy?” 

He discarded the paper and looked at her. 

“I have eyes.”

“You know, nothing.”

“He’s over there, your here. What’s there to know.”

“We’re friends. Miss O’Brien not in the other back pockets.

“But you wish you were…”

Thomas pulled the paper back up, having to fight a bit to get to keep it’s shape. His mind kept going back to the night before. He had to stop it. Stop it again. O’Brien was being helpful with keeping his erection at bay, at least. He smirked. She still had some use it seemed. 

“I think something happened.”

He studiously started to reread an article he’d already read. 

“All those glances at breakfast. Him over there…”

“He can hear you, you know? Wait? You do know,” Jimmy said. “And you’re wrong. As usual.”

“Am I?”’

“Jimmy,” Thomas said in warning.

Jimmy looked at him. Thomas met his gaze. Jimmy looked toward her and back at him. A question in his gaze. Thomas studied him but it only took a moment to realize what Jimmy was asking. Thomas nodded.

“Dropped any soap, recently?” Jimmy asked her. 

She paled. Thomas watched it. ALl the color leave her face. She sputtered something but then she turned and pinned Thomas with a look. “You never.”

“But didn’t I?” Thomas laughed. 

“We’re cozy,” Jimmy added.

Thomas laughed. 

She gathered up all her work. “Alfred, you should be getting to bed. And away from those two.”

Alfred and hall boy were looking between all of them. Thomas shot Alfred a look that he hoped conveyed, keep quiet. Alfred deflated and glanced at Jimmy. “Sorry, about her. She always gotta have a go…” he stood up. “She’s right, though, Stanley, we should head to bed.”

“What about Jimmy?”

“What about him?” Alfred said walking out of the room.

“You aren’t making go to bed…”

“He doesn’t make me do anything, I’m the first footman,” Jimmy called out after them.

Stanley stopped for a second and then started nodding his head. “Right, right. Goodnight, Jimmy. Mr. Barrow.”

Thomas gave him a bored smile. Jimmy just shook his head. Thomas caught Jimmy’s gaze and they both grinned. They stayed that way until they couldn’t ear Alfred’s heavy steps on the stairs anymore. 

It was simple and fun to gain up on O’Brien together, Thomas thought. He wanted to keep it. The ease of it all. He wanted to ask Jimmy to play him something on the piano. He felt like he hadn’t heard Jimmy play in weeks, even though rationally he knew it was only a day without it. He also knew he couldn’t pretend last night never happened. 

“Jimmy.”

“Thomas.”

They laughed again but it was awkward and the air in the room felt stifled. Thomas moved from the rocking chair and towards the piano. Sitting a chair away from Jimmy. Afraid to get any closer. Jimmy was leaning forward, hands on his knees, but he stayed firmly on he piano bench.

“I think…”

“I owe…”

The laughter was easier that time but they both breathed out a bit frustrated. Thomas started to open his mouth but Jimmy held up his hand. Thomas stopped short and realized he hadn’t had a word planned past Jimmy’s name anyway. 

“Let me start,” Jimmy begged.

Thomas nodded.

“I…” Jimmy wiped his hands on his knees. “I mean to say. I owe you a… an apology. I owe you one and I’m sorry. I never should’ve… I didn’t think….” Jimmy let out a frustrated breath. “This shouldn’t be so hard to spit out.”

Thomas found himself laughing. 

Jimmy glared at him affronted. 

“Jimmy…”

“I’m sorry…. That I over stepped that boundary. I shouldn’t have,” Jimmy cut him off his voice even and genuine. 

Thomas felt something catch in his throat and he looked away. It was an odd feeling. To be looked at like Jimmy was in that moment. With apology and guilt. It wasn’t something aimed at Thomas often — if at all. He swallowed over the lump in his throat and looked away from Jimmy. In order to will away the sudden stinging in his eyes. 

“Thomas?”

The worry in Jimmy’s voice wasn’t helping. Thomas shook his head and held up a hand. He had wanted to come up with a speech for this but hadn’t been able too. He didn’t know what to say, he only know what he felt had to be said. It had be said and then had to locked up again. He took in a few shaky breaths and looked up. Jimmy was staring right at him with wide eyes, full of concern and nerves. 

“I love you.”

“I know.”

He hadn’t meant to say it. He meant to imply it. Not state it. And certainly not that bluntly. It shocked Thomas to say it but not as much as Jimmy’s answer. Two simple words, matter of fact and said without any disgust, no upset, just a simple confirmation of understanding. 

“I know I shouldn’t…”

“It’s okay,” Jimmy cut him off. In that voice again, the one that held concern. “It’s why I’m sorry, I shouldn’t….”

Thomas stared at Jimmy. He hadn’t expected this. He thought, more denial, a stern warning about how Jimmy could never - ever - give Thomas what he wants. He expected jimmy to want another declaration that Thomas wouldn’t ask him for it. 

“I shouldn’t have seduced you like that, Thomas.”

“You didn’t.”

Jimmy raised an eyebrow at him, his features falling into a familiar smug expression. 

Thomas chuckled nervously. “You did.”

“I feel I took advantage.”

“I’m not some untouched virgin.”

“Even so,” Jimmy shook his head. “I know…you. I know.”

“Right. I understand it wasn’t done on purpose.”

“No. No…” Jimmy looked away from him and Thomas wanted to chase the expression he caught in his eyes but he daren’t.

“You can’t… we can’t… let that happen again.”

It was Jimmy’s turn to laugh nervously again. “No.”

“I want us to be friends,” Thomas whispered. Somehow saying that scaring him more than a declaration of unrequited love. He was scared of this, what he had with a Jimmy — _a them_. He was terrified it could vanish.

“We are, Thomas. I swear it.” 

Thomas smiled. 

“You said you would never ask for what I… you said you don’t ask for it. So, I’ll say that I’ll never forget there are lines that I should never cross either.”

Thomas nodded, he wasn’t sure if he could talk. He expected a different spin on the conversation. He expected he would have to voice what Jimmy had said so simply. But he hadn’t been able to find the words to ask it of Jimmy, to speak it out loud to the other man. Maybe it was because the last thing he wanted to ask Jimmy was to not touch him. He looked towards Jimmy then and their eyes met. They’d been meeting like this a lot today. He nodded again. “Thank you, Jimmy,” he whispered and heard the surprise in his voice. But it wasn’t often he felt true gratitude. 

“No worries,” Jimmy smiled. “So… what will it be then?” he asked.

“What will what be?”

“Song? Your request.”

Yes. Music. Thomas nodded. “Play the lullaby.”

Jimmy eyes lit up and Thomas felt his cheeks flush. But this they could do, this is what they did. Jimmy turned around on the bench and started to play the lullaby. This was good. This was them. Thomas pulled out a cigarette and lit it, before moving to sit on the bench not to Jimmy. He’d take his secret pleasure in watching his hands on the keys. Their friendship wasn’t going disintegrate due the night before. The knew were they both needed to be, to keep it alive. They’d be fine. Thomas inhaled on the cigarette and closed his eyes. He let Jimmy’s music float through him. He smiled.


	18. Chapter 18

“I do wonder….” Miss O’Brien said, her voice echoing the footsteps of Thomas and Jimmy leaving the servants hall. 

“You do wonder what?” Mr. Carson asked and she felt a thrill at him taking her bait.

“What those two get up to….” She trailed off and bent her head back to her sewing. 

“Meaning?”

“Should they be trusted? Alone?” she questioned. Everyone around the table looked at her and then glanced toward Carson. She couldn’t read the expressions, but she only cared about one anyway. She looked at Mr. Carson, his face a wall of well practiced blankness. “If you get my meaning.”

“What meaning?” Daisy asked walking. 

“Never you mind,” she snapped at the girl.

“I think we all get your drift,” Mr. Bates said. 

“I don’t.”

“Daisy, it’s okay don’t worry about it.”

“I think it’s nice. Thomas and Jimmy being friends. Better than it was before,” Daisy said as she left room with empty plates in her hands.

“All I’m saying is maybe we should keep an eye out…”

“For what?” Mr. Carson asked. 

“Well, I rather not say such things…”

“Then don’t bring them up,” Mr. Carson shut her down. 

“I’m just…”

“I think we all know what you’re doing, Miss O’Brien,” Mr. Bates said. “Losing doesn’t settle well with you, does it.”

She glared at Bates across the table. “You hate them too.”

“He does not,” Anna argued. 

“Please. Spare me the pretending to be nothing but kind.”

“Okay, that has been enough on this topic. We have put all that in the past. Thomas and James have as well. Now it is just the present,” Mr. Carson boomed.

O’Brien watched everyone fall back into what they were doing and realized she hadn’t gotten a burr under anyone’s skin. Except her own. It made no sense. None of them liked Thomas. He was petty and scheming, there was no good will toward him. They should be thinking the worse of his intentions towards Jimmy. Yet they weren’t. Despite her best efforts.

Jimmy walked, rather rushed, back into the servants hall and went right to the piano. He settle down on to the bench and started hitting the keys. It was that awful music of his, that song was he obviously didn’t know but insisted on playing. Over and over again. It gave her headache. 

“Mr. Carson is this really the time for James to be playing whatever that cacophonous notes are?” she shouted loudly.

The music stopped mid-note. “What?”

“You heard me, I’m tired of listening to that swill.”

“Then you’d be the only one,” Thomas said as he walked into the room. 

“Would I be?”

“Enough. James, the day is far from over. Now is not the time for your — music. I will concede it is not too harsh on the ears. Whatever it is… but now is not the time. Once your duties are done.”

“Yes, Mr. Carson,” Jimmy said and he jumped off the bench. “I just…” he toward Thomas. “It isn’t bad is it?”

“Yes it is — and don’t ask him. He’d tell you your —“

“Miss O’Brien. I have quite had it with you this afternoon,” Mr. Carson boomed. “All of you back to work.” 

O’Brien scowled watching him leave the room. Then she put her eyes right back on Thomas and Jimmy. Jimmy was standing now, but he looked uncertain and embarrassed. She allowed herself to smirk a bit, that was a triumph, if nothing else was. 

“It’s just a…” Jimmy stammered at Thomas.

“Don’t listen to her,” Thomas cut him off. 

“Jimmy it’s lovely, that song, once you learned the whole thing it’ll be more so. What’s the name of it?” Anna said. 

“Oh, uh….” Jimmy stammered looking at Anna. 

“It’s a surprise,” Thomas said. “He’ll tell us once he’s got all learned. Picking things up by ear isn’t easy.”

“Do you ever stop?” she snapped at him. “He can answer questions on his own.”

Thomas paid her no attention at all. She bristled. “It’s hard on the ears, anyone with a pair knows that.”

“Well, I think it’s quite harmonic. So does Mr. Bates,” she nudged her husband. 

Mr. Bates looked up the hat he was brushing. “I agree with Mrs. Bates.”

O’Brien looked at the married couple and wanted to throw up. She turned back to the other cozy couple and glared at them. “It’s horrible.”

“Don’t listen to her.”

“I mean, it’s just…” Jimmy was looking from the piano to Thomas. Then at her. She caught his gaze and held it. He stared at her, then his gaze hardened but she noticed him looking back at the piano and then at his own hands. “I need air.”

She grinned then and aimed it at Thomas. 

Thomas however wasn’t looking, he was watching Jimmy leave the room. He took a few step forward but stopped. It was then he looked at her. His expression was a storm. His eyes dark and stony. He glared at her from feet away but he felt closer to her, she felt his anger. Something shifted under her feet. She grabbed her sewing and found herself scurrying out of the kitchen. But glanced back and he was there watching her run. He was large and fearsome.

Thomas never frightened her before.

~~~

“Don’t let her get to you,” Anna’s voice barely made it through the rushing in his ears. Thomas turned toward her, everything looked a bit off to him. He was angry, he wanted to hit her — he wanted to punch O’Brien. He never do that — ever. He had lines he wouldn’t cross but he wanted to cross that one right now. 

“He’s good. He knows that.” Anna grinned.

“He definitely thinks he’s good,” Mr. Bates added. 

“I am sure James’ ego is quite intact. Mr. Barrow you are needed upstairs in the dinning room.”

Thomas stared at the three of them, his yes landing on Mr. Carson. “Yes. Of course.” He turned though and looked at the piano. Jimmy rushed away from him mid-conversation. Thomas followed him after the initial shock of his sudden departure and smiled when he heard the music. It was the familiar refrain but it was leading somewhere now — more and more. Something made Jimmy run to the piano. Thomas went over their conversation, it felt benign to him, small talk really. What had made the muse compel Jimmy to the piano?

Though his wonder at it was short lived. O’Brien and her acid personality. She kept going on about how bad the music was, which made sense. She wouldn’t know a good thing if someone shoved it down her throat. Everything was bad and wrong, everything was to be used, ever situation had o turned to your advantage. Years of conversations between them, as they smoked, rushed through Thomas’ ears. 

Was he as bad as her? He never questioned it, not really, not until recently. He thought he hated her already, but now he did, now he truly did. He walked up the stairs. His heart was with Jimmy, though. He wanted to find him, but even if he did they wouldn’t be in a position to talk. She’d gotten under Jimmy’s skin, made him second guess his song. Thoughts of murder raced through Thomas’ mind. Choke her, push her down the stairs, make her pay for putting doubt in Jimmy’s head. 

He was insecure about his music, it was Thomas kept stopping himself from telling him he knew. That he knew it wasn’t some song he was trying to learn. That the reason he never played it wasn’t that he hadn’t figured it out by ear, but because he hadn’t finished creating it. It was all in his head. It was all from his heart. It was his own composition. 

Beautiful and magic. 

Good. 

Thomas frowned. He walked into the dinning room and found Jimmy already there. Setting out the place settings. His concentration on the dishes and utensils. Thomas picked up the measuring stick and tried to catch Jimmy’s eyes but was a lost cause. He sighed not knowing if he should push. Not knowing if he should leave him alone. What did a good friend do? What did they do in this situation?

Should he tell Jimmy knows?

“I don’t want to talk about it.” 

Jimmy’s voice surprised him and he looked up from the table. Jimmy was directly across from him. Thomas gave him a slight smile. “We can if you want?” 

“No.” Jimmy shook his head. “Don’t know why I let her get to me. What does she know.”

“Not much.”

“No.”

“So. No.”

“Whatever you wish,” Thomas said. 

“Thanks…. Thomas.”

He ducked his head to hide his smile. He loved his name on Jimmy’s tongue. He’d keep Jimmy’s secret longer. And that was what it was, Jimmy’s music. It was his secret, it belonged to him. Thomas felt like he was overstepping by even knowing some days. It was intimate. He thrived on it, he loved his inside knowledge. He’ll love it and it never regret it, but he felt guilty at times. That Jimmy didn’t know he was in on it. Like he owed Jimmy that truth. But it was Jimmy’s secret to tell. To speak out loud. It was his music and his sound. He should be the first to give it words spoken out loud. 

~~~

It was his hands. 

It was someone talking about it out loud. 

He knew what he was doing. Jimmy knew he was writing his own song. But that was nebulous thought in his head, even when he thought it, he let it have very little weight in his mind. Too much certainty and he was afraid the songs might flitter way in the breeze. He’d never find them again. So he didn’t talk about it, he let people think he was playing other men’s ideas. It was easy too since everyone knew he played by ear. Not all songs were easy to do that with, and he struggled on more than once. 

But this was his song. His song. And he’d run inside, overwhelmed by the new notes that appeared in his head. All because of Thomas Barrow’s hands. His cheeks flamed at the thought, because it made no sense. None at all. But lately, more and more, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Thomas’s hands. He was noticing things he never saw before and he wondered at how he missed them. 

Thomas was always moving his hands. Finger tips touching, moving the carton of his cigarettes around in his left hand. Moving the cigarette between fingers. Touching the edge of his tea cup saucer, tracing the shape of the tea cup handle. When he checked the table settings, he’d move the measuring stick in his hands moments away from twirling it. It was like it was magic wand. 

And he was doing it now. Reminding him of what happened outside. They were just talking, about nothing really. He was complaining, actually, about Ivy and not knowing what to do with her crush. Thomas was telling him to stop flirting but he’d scoffed at that idea. He had to have something to do, he explained. Thomas had laughed and pulled out his lighter. Jimmy’s watched how the fingers of his left hand wrapped around it, how his thumb flicked it down and made the flame spurt to life. He watched Thomas lit the cigarette. His left arm floated down but he didn’t shove the lighter inside right away. Instead he held it between his fingers, and spun it around, once, twice. Stop. Once, twice. Stop. Once, twice. Three. 

And music appeared in his head. The notes he needed. The sound he needed to create to get from point a to point c in the song that kept flitting around in his head. Out of order and completely chaotic but beautiful. He needed to remember the notes. So he’d taken off for the piano. It was barely a thought. He just left Thomas standing outside and hurried back inside. Desperate to get his hands on the keys before the notes slipped away. 

He hadn’t noticed his audience. His far too inside his own head. The image of Thomas’ hand around the lighter and his random movements. Triggering something inside of Jimmy. His song, his song. It was his only focused. Until O’Brien’s bitter voice rained down on him and burned. 

She was a hateful witch. It wasn’t about his music. Though, he believed she hated it. She hated everything, didn’t she? Except herself. He felt sorry for Alfred, stuck with her as an aunt. He never hated anyone until he met her — he only told himself he hated Thomas. Because he had to tell himself. He didn’t have to tell himself anything about O’Brien. It was hate. Real hate. And how dare she put down his song. 

But it got under his skin. It did because no one ever spoken a work out loud about HIS MUSIC. Not really. A few questions here and there about what he was playing didn’t count — that was Anna and the others being polite. Or Ivy using it as an excuse to talk him. 

No. She was purposely putting down his music. Calling it unlistenable. He clenched his jaw thinking bout it. He looked across the table at Thomas. Thomas and his hands on the stick, moving it with an odd random grace. He wouldn’t let her taint it. He wouldn’t. He watched Thomas’ hands. He watched them and the notes started to ring again in his mind. He watched Thomas. 

It was all right.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is shorter than usual.

Thomas had just pulled off his white vest when Jimmy barged into his room. He stood there shirtless staring at Jimmy. Jimmy was frozen mid step his eyes on Thomas’ chest. The moment was paused. Thomas averted his eyes to the wall over Jimmy’s shoulder and started to put the shirt back on. 

“What? Don’t do that,” Jimmy said his words running together. “I mean… I can…” he looked over his shoulder at the door.

“No, no,” Thomas snapped out. He didn’t want him to leave. “I was just gonna…” he dropped the vest and walked to his bureau. “I mean I was going to change is all.”

“Right. It’s late. I guess I shouldn’t just barged in.”

“Maybe not,” Thomas admitted but he wasn’t going to complain. “You do have an open invitation.”

“Do I?” Jimmy asked his voice smug.

Thomas pulled one of his pajama tops and pulled it on over his shoulders. He started on the buttons and turned toward Jimmy. “So, what brings you by?”

Jimmy eyes dipped down to his chest again, Thomas’s hand faltered a bit on the buttons. Was he watching him button his shirt? Don’t be silly, Thomas shook his head. “Jimmy?” he prompted. 

“Right, um,” Jimmy looked up at his face. “So…. O’Brien left.”

“That she did — suppose should’ve seen it coming. How she started to keep bringing up Lady Rose’s mum in.”

“Good riddance, really, though jealous. Traveling the world.”

Thomas nodded. 

Jimmy stepped further into the room and grabbed the chair he always sat in. “Is it weird for you?”

“What?”

“Her being gone?”

Thomas stared at him. “No. Not at all. It’s better isn’t it?”

Jimmy nodded.

“I don’t… It’s like the person she was before….” He waved his hands around, trying to avoid any spoken mention of what transpired. “It’s like she never existed.”

“Still… you said you were close.”

Thomas let out a bitter chuckle. “I don’t think I do close.”

Jimmy expression hardened. “What am I then?”

“Different,” Thomas said, softly. Jimmy was different but he wasn’t close. He couldn’t be close, because Thomas wanted closer. 

Jimmy’s mouth twitched up into a small smile at his answer though and Thomas found himself transfixed by it. He moved over and sat down on his bed. Their eyes caught but they sat in silence. 

“We need a drink,” Jimmy announced and he flew out of his chair and was out there door. Thomas stared at how is door swung back and forth a bit lost behind in Jimmy’s wake. He stood up and walked toward it. He stepped into into the hall to see Jimmy’s door swinging as well. Then Jimmy appeared with a dark bottle that could only be whiskey. Thomas smirked at the sight of it and stepped backward back into his room. 

Jimmy stepped in with him and closed the door behind him. He put it down and then shrugged out of his jacket — it was then it struck Thomas that Jimmy was still fully dressed, while he was in his pants and a pajama top. One he never planned to be wearing if he was honest. He watched, openly, because Jimmy didn’t seem to have care as he stripped down to his white vest. 

“That’s more comfortable.” 

Thomas just nodded and tried not to stare at Jimmy chest. How the white fabric pulled over it, the glimpse of smooth golden skin. Tempted and soft but strong — Thomas barely stopped himself from licking his lips. 

Jimmy grabbed the bottle. “To seeing the back of that fucking bitch,” he exclaimed before taking a long gulp. Then he handed the bottle over to Thomas. 

Thomas laughed. He took the bottle. “Good riddance to that black cloud.” He took a long gulp, the alcohol burning his throat but settling warm in his bell. He sat back down on his bed and held out the bottle. 

Jimmy pulled the chair closer to the bed, His whole body underneath Thomas’s outstretched hand before he took the bottle. He took another sip and handed it back. Thomas shook his head. Jimmy stuck the bottle between his legs. Thomas thoughts strayed to what else was there and looked away for a moment. 

“You ever been called Tom or Tommy?”

Thomas eyes darted right back to Jimmy. The abrupt subject change surprising him. 

“Sorry, random I know but I… I asked Alfred and he says he’s always just been Alfred. And well, I don’t know, was just thinking how Carson insisted I was James.”

“No. It’s always been Thomas.”

“Huh.”

“Why?”

“It’s just… I hate James.”

Thomas nodded but he knew he was missing something. 

“Only me Mum called me James.”

“Jimmy?” he asked softly.

“I didn’t… I didn’t really realize it, you know? Until she was gone. Then if anyone else called me it, I felt like they were stepping on something private. I started making sure to introduce myself as Jimmy. It’s always been that anyway, right.”

“Carson won’t…”

“I know.” Jimmy sighed. “I hate it, though.”

“Well, I’ll only say it upstairs.”

Jimmy smiled at him and Thomas felt knocked over it was so brilliant.

“Don’t…” Jimmy swallowed more whiskey. “That’s a secret, don’t know why I just blurted that all out.”

“It’s safe with me.”

“I know,” Jimmy nodded. “You’re safe for me.”

Thomas felt warm then and he was sure his cheeks were reddening. He wanted that, he wanted to be a safe haven for Jimmy. He wanted. He reached out of the whiskey bottle and brought it to his mouth. When Thomas lowered it he glanced at him and was sure for a full second Jimmy was staring at his mouth. 

“Well, should get to bed…” Jimmy looked away. He reached and took his bottle from Thomas’ hand. “Night, Thomas.”

“Good night, Jimmy.”

~~~

Jimmy took another gulp of whiskey the minute he was in his room. Why hadn’t he knocked? He shook his head. How had he stood there, how had sat there? How had Thomas not noticed he couldn’t stop staring at his chest? 

It was just a chest, Jimmy told himself. A male chest. Hairy. Which his wasn’t and he frowned. That wasn’t true it was just not a lot and blonde. And was he really comparing their chests now? 

He took another gulp of whiskey and started taking off his clothes. It was then he realized he left most of his livery in Thomas’ room. Just stripped it all off in front of him. He noticed Thomas’ eyes sliding over him, intense and wide open. 

Thomas was a strange contradiction. He came across closed off and controlled but then you could slapped with his honesty, his vulnerability. It was wide open for all to see. It was how O’Brien used him, she was aware of it — though Jimmy wondered if the others had any clue. Any clue how raw and easily touched Thomas was. 

He sat down at the edge of bed. Maybe Thomas had seen him watching. How he watched Thomas fingers, closing buttons from the bottom up, slowly obstructing Jimmy’s view of his broad chest. Strong, masculine and Jimmy closed his eyes. 

It was rising to the surface again. His deepest secret. The thing he always shoved away. Fast and hard. Every since he was teenager and been caught out — that one time. Before he knew better. Before he was told better. 

It was easy. Because girls were cute and women were beautiful. Soft curves and sweet smiles. Or lewd and knowing ones, Lady Anstruther appearing in his mind. All woman and open sexuality and he gotten lost in the lust of it all. It was easy to forget and pretend what he was hiding. The lie he told himself over and over again. That he never looked men and felt attracted. The biggest lie of his life. 

It was the most confusing fact of his life. He never understood it, he thought maybe everyone struggled with it when he was younger. But it became clear to him that wasn’t true. 

It was easy though to shove it way because there were always girls, always women. Jimmy attracted them to him, with his smile and his charm. And he enjoyed it. Immensely. He loved them. He loved women. 

But the second he saw Thomas all of it unburied itself from its hiding place in his mind. All the touches, all the lingering looks, all the open attraction that Thomas seemed unable to hide — despite knowing he should. It crawled up Jimmy’s spine uncomfortably. It was reminding him of all that he buried so easily, so nicely — if it could come undone so quickly, shouldn’t he worry about it? Worry he was wrong?

He balked at it. Wanted to shove Thomas away. But there was was O’Brien telling him not too. Hinting it was best for his ambitions to stay quiet. And he was ambitious. He was prideful. He was better than Alfred and more experienced. He let Thomas keep touching him, he let it happen — and he tried to pretend he wasn’t attracted back. 

He knew. He knew that even if Alfred hadn’t barged in, he would have tossed Thomas out of his room. For the violation, first and foremost. But also for adding to the confusion. That was where his anger stemmed from. His own damn confusion. His own damn self-hatred. Because he was told it was wrong. It was wrong, they all said. Some nebulous they he was pretty sure he no longer believed in. 

O’Brien wasn’t the bitch. He was the bastard. 

Thomas never hid who he was, what he was and he even reached out for connection, for touch, and Jimmy was in awe of it. Once he shed his fear it. Thomas was alone and he wanted things everyone told him shouldn’t… 

But went for it anyway. 

O’Brien knew that and she knew his weaknesses, his vulnerability. Jimmy was a bit jealous and in awe of her ability to play them both. Even if she never truly knew the buttons she was hitting him with — the ones that were more against himself than Thomas. Ever. 

Thomas was always bright and unavoidable to him. 

He’d wanted to run his fingers through his chest hair, wanted to hear his heart beat against his palm. He’d wanted to be the damn bottle of whiskey when Thomas drank from it. 

But he was terrified and Thomas was brave.


	20. Chapter 20

Jimmy walked into the Dog and the Duck and went straight to the bar. He settled on a stool and ordered a beer. He downed it, greedy for it, swallowed it all in a few long gulps and ordered a second. He downed half of it, setting the stein back on the counter with more force than planned. 

He spun around and glanced around the pub. It was mostly men, the few women in the place were with men. That was fine with him, he wasn’t in the mood for the girls of the Village. They were all like Ivy, smiles and innocent flirtations that meant nothing. No challenge, none of them were like the Crawley sisters — even Edith was more strong-willed than the Village girls. 

Jimmy was bored. And he couldn’t stop thinking about Thomas. He swallowed a groan and turned around on his seat and downed the rest of the second beer. He waved over the bartender for another. 

“You having women trouble?” the bartender asked. 

Jimmy looked at him. He looked new, but he hadn’t been in he pub for a long while. “Who are you?”

“David, who are you?”

“Jimmy Kent, at your service.” The smile was automatic. “And no, no women around worth any trouble.”

“That’s trouble. What’s a man to do without a woman?”

Jimmy laughed and took his beer from the man. 

“That’s funny?”

“No, it’s not.” Jimmy sighed. 

“You’ve got something on your mind.”

“You could say that.” Over six foot, gray eyed, man trouble. 

“Sure it’s not a girl?”

“It’s… someone I can’t have,” Jimmy admitted after downing half the beer. 

“Ah, see, I knew it.”

Jimmy shook his head.

“Someone above your station? I can’t tell you how many guys I have heard go and on about Lady Mary Crawley. My bet is none of them even talked with her.”

“I have. I’m her footman.”

“Is it her?”

Jimmy stared into the beer. Lady Mary? Could he? “Sure.”

“You struck me as smarter than that.”

“Do I?” Jimmy smiled. “H -She’s not allowed, you know? It’s not allowed by the rules. These damn rules, that people make up I think. They make up these ridiculous lines that people can’t or shouldn’t cross. T- Mary…” Jimmy laughed nervously at calling her that. “She’s all wit and sarcasm. Smart as whip and I could hold a conversation with her, without getting bored to death a few sentences in…”

“Have you?”

“Of cour — of course not,” Jimmy sighed. This parallel wasn’t close enough. “But we could…” we do, every day. 

“Didn’t Lady Crawley’s sister marry the Chauffeur? He comes in here now and again, one of the guys he is… but he’s living it up in that big house.”

Jimmy laughed and finished his beer. 

“That’s funny?”

“Mary.” He grinned at calling her that again, Carson would skin him alive. “She’d never deign below her status.”

“That’s the problem. She’s thinks she’s too good for the likes of us.”

“H-She,” he hiccuped. “Is too good for the likes you.”

The bartender, David stiffened. “Watch it.”

“What you, you think someone like t-Her would…” Jimmy looked him up and down. Not close to good enough for Thomas. “The thing is, it’s not about better, it’s not about… it’s about being a good match. If you find someone who is your match but there are all these rules that say they can’t be yours. That’s it wrong… that it’s not —“ he cut himself off before he said unnatural. _Be careful_ a voice whispered and it sounded like Thomas.

“What can you do if she’s too snobby to cross the lines.”

“Is that her fault though. You know one thing, your told one thing. All your life. This is wrong and that is right. That wrong is the worst wrong in all the wrongs in all…Wrongs! Get me another, beer.”

“Alright, but it’s your last.”

“Whatever. So they say, they say its wrong, bad, it’s all those things that you’re told could ruin you, ruin your life. How… how can you blame me-Mary from not wanting to - to - to… Ignore it.”

David handed him the beer.

Jimmy swallowed it. “You can’t just ignore it, can’t pretend it’s not there and that it doesn’t matter — can you just pretend it doesn’t matter? Pretending doesn’t change the truth.”

“I say give up on Lady Crawley and just find yourself a bit of a bad girl — can’t really go wrong with that, m’laddo. Some dirty fun.”

Jimmy blinked at him. “Some _girl_ is the last thing that’s gonna help.”

“Suit yourself, but you’re hard up. Wound way too tight and you know I’m right,” David shook his head. “Pay up, you aren’t getting more after you swallo that down.”

Jimmy glared at the man but handed over what was owed. He looked into the stein of beer he was holding. Half gone, didn’t remember drinking it, not really. He was all fuzzy around the edges but he didn’t feel drunk enough. Too many of his thoughts were sober. 

It’s unnatural. It’s a sin. You’ll burn in hell. 

_You like girls, you love girls — even the boring ones if they’re pretty enough. Focus on women and ignore the rest. Or you’ll get slapped around again — but who, Dad’s dead. It was only one slap and a lecture. And a punch in the nose from Adam._

Jimmy drank down the rest of the beer. He stood up, grateful he could keep his balance and walked over the empty piano in the corner. He sat down and started playing. Anything loud, anything fast, anything that maybe could get his heart to stop beating loudly in his ears. 

Because all he heard was Thomas.

~~~

He knocked on Thomas’ door. Watched his hand pound against the wood. “That’s loud.”

“Yes, Jimmy it is,” Thomas said.

“Hey, you opened the door.”

“You’ve had a bit to drink,” Thomas said. He was smiling, Jimmy smiled at him. 

“You better follow me then.” He brushed past Thomas in order to get into his room. His shoulder hitting solid body. A nice solid body. Jimmy stood and looked Thomas up and down. Watched Thomas close his door. 

“No muggers in my room, we’re safe… Pleased you managed to find your way home.”

“I’m not drunk,” Jimmy grabbed his chair and pulled it right up to Thomas’s bed. “Sit. We’re talking.”

Thomas moved to his bed and sat down on the edge of it. Jimmy moved the chair again until he could sit on it, his legs hitting Thomas. Thomas looked down as Jimmy pressed his against his. Jimmy wanted that and he smiled. 

“There is a new bartender at the Dock and the Pug.”

Thomas laughed.

“What? Did you know that?”

“No, Jimmy.”

“He cut me off.”

Thomas nodded. 

“He was handsome. But not your sort. Kept talking about girls.”

“I won’t try to kiss him then,” Thomas said, giving Jimmy an odd look. “Did you enjoy the conversation?”

“About girls? No. None worth my time around here.”

“What’s worth your time, Jimmy?”

Jimmy met Thomas’s eyes and he saw the genuine curiosity in his friends eyes. He asked these questions and he cared about the answers.

“Of course I care about the answers.”

“I said that out loud?” 

Thomas laughed and it was beautiful. 

“What?” Thomas said.

“What?” Jimmy blinked at him.

Thomas shook his head. 

Jimmy yawned. 

“You should go to bed.”

“No… I didn’t enjoy it. The talk of girls. Was-talking-about-easy-ones. None-of-that-around-here… wouldn’twantthemanyway.” His tongue felt thick. 

“You’re not making sense.”

Jimmy opened his mouth to argue but all that came out was a yawn. Thomas stood up and grabbed Jimmy’s hands. Jimmy looked down. Thomas wasn’t wearing his glove. He looked at the scarring and his thumb skittered over it. Thomas’ grip became painful. 

“Jimmy?” he sounded annoyed.

“What?”

“Up,” Thomas said and pulled on Jimmy’s hands.

Jimmy surged up and staggered, feeling off balance. Thomas stepped backward, stopped only by his bed and his arms wrapped around Jimmy. Jimmy inhaled, he smelled like soap and cigarettes. 

“Come on,” Thomas started pushing him. Jimmy looked down and watched his feet. They seemed very far away. He stopped walking. 

“Jimmy come on,” Thomas wrapped an arm around Jimmy’s waist. Jimmy leaned into his touch and looked around. 

“We’re in the hall.”

“Observant,” Thomas said dryly and moved them down the hall. 

“You taking me to bed, Thomas?” Jimmy asked seeing his door. 

Thomas groaned and shoved Jimmy into the wall. 

“Ow.”

“Sorry, Jimmy,” he opened the door. “Go on.”

Jimmy walked into his room. 

Thomas stayed in the door.

Jimmy looked around. “Now what?”

Thomas sighed and walked in. He closed the door behind him.

Jimmy stared at the action. He looked at his bed. He licked his lips. 

“Come on,” Thomas motioned to his bed.

Jimmy swallowed. “What?”

“Sit down.”

“Okay.” Jimmy sat down. 

“Take off your coat.”

“Okay.”

Thomas watched him and Jimmy met his eyes. He couldn’t read Thomas’s expression. His eyes seemed stormy. “You mad?”

“No,” Thomas said, softy and dropped to his knees. 

Jimmy felt his stomach dip. Then he felt Thomas’ hands on his shoes. He went back to trying to take off his coat. His arms were caught. He felt his shoes leave his feet. 

“You’re playing valet.” He struggled more with his coat.

“Are you…” Thomas rose back up and stared at Jimmy. The edges of his mouth twitched up ward and then he leaning over Jimmy. Jimmy just watched him and felt himself being pulled free of his coat. 

“Okay, Jimmy, lie down.”

“Okay.” Jimmy flopped down on his bed and closed his eyes. 

“Sleep well, Jimmy,” Thomas said and Jimmy opened his mouth to respond but darkness descended. 

~~~

Thomas flew back to his own bedroom. He closed the door and locked it. From what he wasn’t sure. If Jimmy showed back up he’d unlock it, he knew that, he would never keep him out. Yet it felt good lock it and he sat down on his bed. His heart pounding and his shift his hips. He looked down at his obvious erection, pushing against his clothes. 

It wasn’t one thing. No, Jimmy been a million different arousing things all at once. And completely vulnerable and in need of care. Thomas thought, not for the first time or the last that was a horrible man. Usually he couldn’t bring himself to care about it. He’d embrace it. If it was anyone but Jimmy he’d already have his hand wrapped around his cock. 

He’d be coming. 

Thomas groaned. Because it was Jimmy, he sat how he was and felt lost. He’d been amused when he showed up, soused with red cheeks and blinking eyes. He was honestly surprised Jimmy managed to make it home and up all the stairs. Though he seemed aware enough of himself — at first. Making jokes — inside ones at that and Thomas was surprised he found the humor of it all. 

But then Jimmy sat down practically on top of Thomas. Shoving his leg between Thomas’. Their thighs pressed firmly together and Thomas lost his breath. But Jimmy kept talking, always talking and Thomas was able to focus on that…

Until he almost swore Jimmy called him beautiful. All his breath had fallen out of him and his heart stuttered. But it’d been slow low and slurred. It could’ve been anything at all and Jimmy had looked at him so blankly when he asked what. 

And after that Jimmy words and sentences smushed more and more together, and he kept yawning every other syllable. His eyes more glassy and unfocused. 

Until Thomas grabbed his hands. His hands were warm, against Thomas’ and Thomas gripped onto them tight. Afraid if he didn’t Jimmy wouldn’t notice he was there. Only Jimmy’s eyes cleared up, they cleared up and stared at their hands. Thomas froze, fear filling him, afraid maybe he overstepped some line and Jimmy would become angry. 

Instead though Jimmy tightened his hold and Thomas felt his thumb graze over his scar. It hurried him into action, he couldn’t let that go on — that lead to… Where he currently was, hard and alone. But that wasn’t the only reason. 

He forced Jimmy to his feet, he had practically carry him into the hallway and down the hall. Jimmy stopped still at one point and just wouldn’t budge until finally he seemed to hear Thomas call his name. Then he leaned into Thomas, smelling of beer and Jimmy. Thomas forced himself not inhale it but it was impossible to ignore. Jimmy’s solid mass pressed against him. 

_You taking me to bed, Thomas?_

An innocent question, it was, he told himself. He was taking Jimmy to bed, it was the literal definition of what he was doing — but that wasn’t the meaning he wanted. He wanted. He wanted Jimmy, in his bed, underneath him and the question went right to his cock. 

It got worse. Thomas let out a frustrated sigh and started to take off his pants. He shoved them over his hips and kicked them to the floor. His hand wrapped around his cock. 

He saw Jimmy standing in the middle of his room and looking at Thomas like he held all the answers. Thomas closed his eyes and slid his hand down. 

_Sit down._ He hadn’t known he’d given an order until Jimmy just complied with it. Just moved with odd grace and sat down at his bed. His dark blue eyes staring right at Thomas the entire time. 

_Okay._ Another easy compliance when he ordered him to take off his coat and the way he’d watched Thomas drop to his knees in front of him….

“Jesus, Jimmy….” Thomas sighed, imagining being on knees for Jimmy in the way he really wanted. With what he really wanted. 

_Lie down._

_Okay._

Thomas groaned. Seeing Jimmy supine on the bed, looking right at Thomas before his eyes fluttered closed from the alcohol. Thomas wanted to crawl on top of him but he’d somehow managed to leave the room instead. 

But the images were there, the fantasy rising up within him, easy and simply. Because he’ll always want him. He always want Jimmy. All of him and not just what he can get — not just the friendship they were forging. 

Thomas thought about crawling over Jimmy on his bed. Pressing his lips against his and having them press back — having Jimmy enjoying it, kissing hi back. Holding that strong, lean, solid body underneath him, pressed under his own. 

Thomas came. 

Thomas wondered how he’d face Jimmy tomorrow.


	21. Chapter 21

Thomas hurried through breakfast, ignoring Jimmy — and extremely thankful for once that Anna was sat between them. He almost choked on his toast but his tea saved him and then he was standing up. 

The only person who paid him any mind was of course Jimmy. Thomas was nearly out of the servant’s hall, walking as fast he could without fearing he’d just break out into a run.

“Where are going?” Jimmy called after him.

“Needed in town,” he said as politely as he could manage. He looked at Jimmy’s plate rather than his face. Afraid what might happen if he saw Jimmy’s face. Looked in his eyes. The night would reoccur in his mind and he wasn’t sure his body or heart could take it. 

“It is a bit early for you to leaving,” Mrs.Hughes interjected.

Thomas glared at her. She barely blinked when he stood up and now she was curious? “I fancy a bit of a walk.”

“It’s raining,” Alfred said unnecessarily.

“I like the rain,” Thomas bit out. 

“Take an umbrella,” Anna added helpfully. “In case it worse, I think it’s just a drizzle.”

“I’ll bring one.”

“Are you picking up the linens?”

“Yes, Mr. Carson.”

“Ask them about the price of tea towels.”

“Very well,” Thomas said and waited to see if anyone else had anything to say. 

“Mr. Barrow…” Jimmy said, his voice odd. 

“Yes,” he looked at Jimmy’s half eaten toast. 

“Never mind,” Jimmy mumbled. 

“Good day then,” Thomas muttered and walked down the hallway, feeling more out of sorts than when he started. He grabbed his umbrella, made sure he his wallet and the list for all his stops. He paused for a moment and found a pen and added in a note about Mr. Carson’s tea towels. 

“Thomas…” It was Jimmy and for the first time since Thomas met him he found it irritating. “Wait.”

“What?” Thomas barked.

“I just…”

“I really do need to start heading to the…”

“It’s just, you have time for a cigarette right?”

“No,” Thomas lied. “I have some other side trips I’m making.”

“Really? What?”

Thomas counted to five and wished to hell Jimmy had sounded so damn interested. Interested in what he — Thomas — was doing. He kept doing that and he walked into his bedroom and he fucking beautiful when he was drunk. Thomas bit the inside of his cheek and looked at Jimmy’s livery rather than the man under it. 

“Nothing that’s interesting, I really need to go.” Thomas turned and his hand touched the handle of the backdoor when his left wrist was caught but strong fingers, wrapping around it. Brushing his skin right at the edge of the glove. He froze.

“Will you turn around?” Jimmy asked his voice low.

“No,” Thomas breathed it was barely a whisper. 

Jimmy’s hold tightened on his hand. 

“Jimmy,” he said. “I have to —“ 

“You’re mad,” Jimmy interrupted. 

Thomas shook his head, against the flicker of memory. Jimmy said it a last night as well. “I’m not mad.”

“What did…” Jimmy let out a breath and squeezed Thomas’ wrist in his hold before abruptly letting go. Thomas’ arm swung forward and he stopped it from swinging back, he sighed at the heat he could still feel from Jimmy’s touch. “Later?” Jimmy asked from behind him. 

“Yes, Jimmy.”

~~

Jimmy watched the door closed and sighed. Last night he hadn’t been drunk enough to forget. Not really. The memories were blurry and some were fuzzier than others. Clouds he couldn’t quite see through but he remembered more than he forgot. Knocking on Thomas’ door and making Thomas laugh and how beautiful he’d been in that moment. It was frozen in his memory, vivid and clear, unlike the rest of the night. 

Thomas’ head thrown back, long neck bared, laughing and dimpled. It was almost like he took a picture of it he could remember that second, it was a mere second, so clearly. When everything else was blurry — but blurry enough for him to feign forgetfulness. 

No, he remembered Thomas’ hands on him, reminding him how to walk because he’d forgotten — or been distracted. He’d been so distracted by Thomas’ shoulders, scent and strength. He wanted Thomas to manhandle him in those moments so he’d let it happen.

“Why?”

He never should have gone to Thomas’ room. Not when he’d gotten drunk to try not think about him. Or rather about the feelings he provoking. Jimmy walked into the kitchen, hoping the chaos of it could distract him out of his head. And out of worrying about Thomas. 

He couldn’t pinpoint one thing though which was the problem. He was drunk, he’d gone into his room. He’d let things happen but he hadn’t really provoked them? Had he? Thomas had done all the touching. All of it. Hadn’t he? But? But Jimmy walked right into his room. Jimmy was the one who stared at Thomas blankly once they got to his room. But that was Thomas’ fault. Jimmy recalled it perfectly. His mind was fuzzy, he was missing Thomas’s hands on him. He’d looked at Thomas at the door. He’d looked preternatural standing in a bit of a shadow, the moon shining on his skin. It was stunning. Jimmy gotten distracted and forgotten what he was supposed to do. 

So Thomas reminded. Ordered him and that’d been nice. It seemed simple. Just do what Thomas says, do what Thomas wants. _He wants you. He wants you._ Jimmy felt his stomach flip, the memory of it doing the same as he watched Thomas drop to his knees in front of him. 

_Beautiful, stunning. You don’t describe men that way. You can give him what he wants. You can’t. Never._

“James!” Mrs. Patmore screeched.

“What?” he jumped, nearly right out of his skin. 

“Take the tray, you are in a daze this morning.”

Jimmy looked at the tray with eggs on it and picked it up and left the kitchen. He had to get out of his head but not until he figured out how to apology for the night before. It didn’t matter it’d been Thomas doing the touching, and a bit of undressing. 

“You and Mr. Barrow have a fight?” Alfred asked the minute they both back in the stairwell. 

Jimmy startled again, embarrassment made his cheeks flush. How do you not notice Alfred? “No.”

“Really, things seemed.”

“We didn’t fight. We don’t fight.”

“Well, no you haven’t since the fair but…”

“He’s just… mad at me.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing. I didn’t do anything…” so he went to his room drunk. 

“Then what is he mad about.”

“That.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t you big git,” Jimmy snapped.

~~~

Jimmy spent the rest of the day trying to figure out how to apologize for last night. He pushed against the edges of their friendship — again. Why did he keep doing that? Was it just because Thomas was in love with him? Jimmy shook his head, he shouldn’t have thought that. That was supposed to be silent. And never uttered. 

Maybe they couldn’t do this? This friendship thing. But no. No. He and Thomas were friends and he liked being Thomas’ friend. He liked sharing cigarettes and talking shit about everyone behind their backs. 

He liked being able to hold an intellectual conversation with someone and he was pretty sure Thomas craved that too. They could really talk about politics or gossip in town. 

Thomas was keeping him sane. He felt on the edge of a breakdown before he let go of his anger and confusion regarding everything that had happened. A wall was broken down and Jimmy as less lonely. 

“Think about how lonely he’s been…” Jimmy muttered to himself putting down Tom Branson’s boot. He picked up the other one to polish. “We can’t go back…” Which left Jimmy back where he started. How did he apology for last night, without making the conversation too awkward. He knew didn’t do anything, yet he done too much the second he knocked on Thomas’ door.

~~~

Thomas was fairly certain Jimmy was avoiding him when he got back to the house. He only caught glimpses of him walking out of rooms as Thomas walked into them. They were mutually avoiding each other. It pissed Thomas off but he thought he maybe should be relieved. But he couldn’t because this was a problem. He was back to questioning his sanity when it came to this friendship. 

Maybe he couldn’t do it — to be so close to him and never being able to touch him. Jimmy was something bright and brilliant, something Thomas couldn’t deserve let alone catch. He’d been beautiful last night, funny and pliant. So very pliant, listening to every word Thomas spoke with near reverence and doing whatever Thomas told him to do. 

_Okay._

Thomas shook himself trying to get Jimmy’s voice as he said that simple word out of his head. If he told Jimmy to do other things last night would he? Thomas couldn’t stop thinking about it, wondering? And he hated himself a little bit for being so — kind the night before. 

Jimmy should be frightened of him. He should never go near Thomas when he was drunk. Thomas been on the knives edge of taking advantage. It would have been so simple, he’s almost sure Jimmy would have acquiesce. 

But no. 

Thomas focused on lighting a cigarette. Taking his time. He knew he was wrong - he’d never lay a hand on Jimmy without permission. Sober permission. He loved him and it made him want to be what he wasn’t. Nice. Brave. He thought about the fair and how it felt right to rush right into a beating. 

But he touched him, he’d enjoyed touching him, pulling off his shirt and pulling off his shirt. And he’d watched him sleep, stood there for a long time watching him sleep and breathe. He watched Jimmy breathe and thought about the last time he done so — thought about how soft his lips had felt against his. He’d wanted to dip down and taste Jimmy again. He’d come close to doing so, with lies about his pliancy whispering bad things in his head.

He left the room. Given into his urges on his own. Thomas still felt he crossed a line. But he selfish, he wasn’t giving Jimmy up. But what did they do? 

_Do I apologize?_

How much did he remember? Did he feel like Thomas been too forward with dragging him to bed, taking off his shoes and his coat. All the touching? If he’d only known? Known the thoughts in Thomas’ head. He’d lose Jimmy if he found out those thoughts. He’d leave Downton Abbey to get away from him. 

Because Thomas’ attraction was loud — he had to find a way to tamper it down. Jimmy had to stop being so — Jimmy. Barging in, getting drunk, being charming. No, Thomas shook his head. No he didn’t want Jimmy to be anything but himself. It was on him, him alone to control this, to push down the deeper feelings he had. 

This was on him. He had to find a way. Because he wasn’t losing what he could get.


	22. Chapter 22

Jimmy thought of the music as the answer to a question. All songs held meaning, the were the conclusion of a question the composer was asking the music to guide them too. Jimmy loved music because through it he could always find peace of mind — something would settle in his heart and quiet his mind after playing a really good song. 

He felt awkward and out of sorts the whole day. He was anxious to talk with Thomas but more than anything as the day went on and on, he was anxious to get the piano. He thought about the songs he would play, he randomly pressed his fingers against surfaces playing out the keys. He hummed when he could get away with it — but Carson was always showing up and yelling at him for his lack of decorum. 

So he was jumpy and restless when he finally was able to slide onto the bench. He felt angry and unsure, he was lacking confidence, so he started playing something loud and chaotic. Poured his whirring thoughts onto the keys and he knew he was messing it up, hitting discordant notes but he couldn’t bring himself to care and he almost liked the sound of it. 

But it bother him, keeping him on edge and he started tapping his foot on the floor. As he played out the chaos that he felt and the angry confusion. He played the song three times before he just suddenly stopped by hitting two very wrong notes. 

“Jimmy.” 

It was the first time all day someone speaking to him hadn’t startled him. It was Thomas. Of course. It was always that way with Thomas. He was a presence. Jimmy could feel him if he was in a room. It wasn’t necessary to see him, Jimmy would always know he was there. 

He looked though, he looked at his friend. Thomas was standing by the piano, arm leaned against a wall, a cigarette caught in his fingers. Seeing him made it worse, now he could almost feel Thomas’s body heat. He was close to the piano, nearly hovering. A feeling that crawled up his spin and made his way down his chest. It was a heated flush and it all because he knew he could never ignore Thomas. And he hated the thrill that gave him because he should hate it. Hate the power Thomas has over him. 

Thomas continued to smoke, his eyes darting to the table. Jimmy looked over his shoulder and saw the Bates’, Braithwaite, Alfred and the hall boys at the table. They’d have to wait longer, Jimmy thought and he wished he was relieved at the thought. 

Jimmy went back to the piano. He hit keys, he was barely paying attention to what he was playing. It took him until the third repetition to realize he was playing his song — his question. He played it and found himself hitting new keys and they sounded as confused as he currently felt. He noted them and played them again and again. 

“We’re alone.”

Jimmy lifted his fingers off of the keys and turned toward Thomas. He had a cigarette in his mouth, and he was sucking in the smoke of it. His cheekbones pronounced by the movement. Jimmy found himself admiring the sharpness. But he was distracted because he realized Thomas was looking at him. Looking right at him and Jimmy felt a deep satisfaction rush through him. Thomas been looking around him all day, but now he was looking right him with his sharp gray eyes. Jimmy met his gaze, he stared right back Thomas and enjoyed the elation of it all. 

Until Thomas averted his eyes. “Look at me,” he said and he hated the whine he heard his his voice. 

 

“I…” Thomas sighed and stubbed out the cigarette. He slid onto the bench, legs on either side, mirroring Jimmy. “I want too.”

“Go ahead then.”

“I just…” Thomas looked down, and Jimmy watched in shock as his cheeks reddened. “Can’t.”

“Why?”

Thomas chuckled and Jimmy thought a laugh should never sound so sad. He almost reached over and grabbed Thomas’ hand but he stopped himself and flattened his palm against his own thigh instead. 

“I just can’t — not right now. Maybe tomorrow.”

“This is my fault.”

“No, no it isn’t,” Thomas argued. 

“It is. I was… drunk and I barged in on you.”

“You did nothing wrong.”

“Didn’t I?” All day he’d kept up the running argument in his head he hadn’t done anything wrong but it was an argument he knew he wasn’t winning. He’d crossed the line that gotten them here. “I shouldn’t have…”

“You should have,” Thomas argued. 

Jimmy blinked away the deja vu, this wasn’t the fight at the fair. “No…”

“All you were was drunk.”

Jimmy laughed then and wondered if the lack of gaiety was apparent to Thomas as Thomas’ sad laugh had been to him. “I don’t know why I pounded on your door.”

“I thought… it was friendship?” Thomas looked up then, catching Jimmy’s eye for a second and his uncertainty slapped Jimmy. He doubted it, still, their friendship?

“Of course it was… wasn’t going to pound on Alfred’s door.”

Thomas really laughed then and Jimmy was reminded of his laugh the night before. The brilliant and bright one that made him drunker than the alcohol. 

“I hope I didn’t upset you…”

“What?”

“I shoved you into your room, onto your bed…” Thomas trailed off. 

Retrospect being what it was, Jimmy knew what he’d been too drunk to see last night. Thomas’ attraction had been in every touch and every decision he made. But it’d been innocent, all of it completely innocent. Though all it would have taken was one small move and it’d have turned indecent. It was amazing the fine line of thing, Jimmy thought. 

Relief flooding through Jimmy the line hadn't been crossed. He felt himself tense at the thought of it and he let out a sigh -- confusion and anger. He felt Thomas tense, he realized he was looking at the piano and he shifted his eyes back to Thomas. 

"You are angry."

"No."

"No?"

Jimmy shook his head. "You didn't do anything, Thomas."

Thomas shook his head, his annoyingly bent head and Jimmy bit his tongue before he demanded he looked at him. "So… sometimes, maybe I just won't be able to look at you. It'll pass. It's not…" Thomas shook his head. "Can we have that understanding?"

Right. Jimmy thought, more rules, more rules for them not speak about. But it all hinged on the same thing. He'd do something that make it impossible for Thomas to pretend he didn't want him. Would that ever go away? 

"Maybe, it'll stop…" Thomas offered in a shaky voice, as if he'd sensed what Jimmy was thinking.

"I handle it -- as long as it doesn't last too long. Like to be looked at you know." Jimmy prayed the joke was okay, that the lightening of the mood would work. That his own damn ego could save them out of this conversation. 

Thomas looked up at him then and he smirked. Jimmy caught his gaze and gave him a smug smile in return. Thomas looked away but it was something, it was them -- maybe. They were okay. 

Jimmy turned and started to play the piano again, trying out the newer notes again and his brow furrowed in concentration. He started it from the beginning, realizing as he played how long it had become. It was closer to a song than not now. He started the newer notes that come to him today and then repeated them, letting them settle in his mind. Hearing the confusion and the question -- he longed to find the answer. 

He felt Thomas next to him. Thomas's arm brushing his and he smelled the smoke from his cigarette. A time or two a swirl of smoke would float over his hands on the keys and Jimmy felt like it fit the mood. It happened again and for the first time, Jimmy glanced to his right and saw Thomas' profile. He had a cigarette in his mouth, his gloved hand loosely holding it up, but it was his lips that kept it still. He had an odd look in his eye and a small smirk turned up the corners of his mouth. He looked like he had a secret, Jimmy thought, and he wondered what it was -- he almost asked but then he played a new note and his eyes fell down to his hands. The music distracted him back into its secret and while Thomas remained present, he fell back into the song. 

~~~

It was turning into a song. A beautiful song. Thomas closed his eyes and just listened. To the beginning and the newer turn. He heard the idea of his mother's scottish lullaby, but it turned into something different. Sounds only Jimmy could create. It was all his own and Thomas knew it. He got to know this secret, this part of Jimmy, he got to sit and hear him create this. Night after night. He almost dreaded what might happen if Jimmy finished it -- but then again, Thomas knew he culd listen to it over and over again. 

And maybe Jimmy would start another.  
Another song that belonged only to Jimmy Kent. 

He wished he could look at him, but he couldn't, not yet. It was attraction and guilt all wrapped around him. The few times Thomas forced himeslf to look Jimmy been blinding. A flame, bright and burning. He remembered too well the easy look in Jimmy eyes as he'd stood drunk, blinking and trusting Thomas. The trust was -- odd to Thomas. People didn't trust him. He didn't trust them. 

Jimmy Kent with all his own rules. His own song. His own way of life. Thomas sighed and dared to look at his profile, rather than his hands. But all he saw was handsome and all he saw was last night again. Jimmy's eyes following as he bent down to take off Jimmy's shoes. A flash of lust -- no, it wasn't that but it'd been what Thomas wanted. 

He looked at Jimmy and wanted. And he could never confuse his want with Jimmy's wants. Jimmy doesn't want him. So he looked away, to Jimmy hands. And they weren't safe to look at, especially as they played the piano. Graceful and sure. Confidence sliding over a keyboard and making stunning sound. 

Thomas turned away from his hands too. He lit a cigarette and brought it to his mouth. He decided to just listen. He brought the cigarette to his mouth as the start of the most familiar part of the refrain, he knew it so well but it was always beautiful. He listened and remembered he was the only one who knew, who understood. He was the only one who truly saw Jimmy. 

His secret. He smirked. 

~~~

Mrs. Hughes watched them from the door. The music had pulled her out of her sitting room. She hadn't realized the hour, having gotten caught up in some sewing. Earlier she remembered Jimmy banging on the piano as if it had done something to upset him. Then he realized Thomas was there and started to play the song he was intent on learning but was having issues with. It was strange to her it was giving him such a hard time when most songs seemed as easy to him a breathing. 

He was a Golden One. Life was easy for Jimmy Kent. Bonny face and charming smiles. He waltzed in here and become one of them. Ivy ate out of his hand and Thomas was beyond smitten. Even when Jimmy's pride and ego had them at odds. More than at odds. It'd been ugly mess and her first fear was that Thomas would go after Jimmy and try to ruin him in turn. 

Yet it never happened. The opposite was what occurred. Mr. Carson told her himself that Thomas didn't blame the boy. And she watched that boy be rude to Thomas for well over a year waiting for Thomas to snap and attack him. Yet instead he'd been the one to protect him. She was no fool. After the attack at the fair something had shifted in Jimmy. He'd walked around in a fog for days, he'd done Thomas' duties without being asked and without complaint. He looked guilty, and she knew him to be. He was why Thomas been beaten. It was a shock. To see someone so selfish be so kind. But there it was. Jimmy Kent charmed someone she thought uncharmable.

It was quite the feat. But then it was love. And if anyone ever told her she'd see Thomas Barrow in love she would have said it was impossible. Yet here they were. She frowned and continued to watch them. Sitting together on that piano bench, Jimmy playing the song and Thomas listening. Something was bothering her, something beyond all the obvious. 

Jimmy nudged Thomas's arm. Thomas leaned into it and smiled. Jimmy played on for a moment and then nudged Thomas' arm again. Thomas sucked on his cigarette and Mrs. Hughes thought for a moment the music stuttered -- it ceased to flow -- but then it was back and she wasn't sure if she'd imagined it or not. 

Jimmy continued to play but he leaned into Thomas. Not just a nudge, his whole arm leaned in against Thomas. Thomas didn't move in or out of the touch, he just continued to stare down at the piano, smoking and listening. And Mrs. Hughes was suddenly struck by the closeness. It touched her and she found herself praying that Jimmy Kent never hurt Thomas Barrow again.


	23. Chapter 23

“They like her,” Jimmy said as he lit a cigarette with Thomas’s lighter. Thomas took it back and watched as Jimmy walked over to lean against the picnic table. “Granted, anyone is better than O’Brien and she’s not as — ambitious as Braithwaite.”

“No one was ambitious as Braithwaite. She didn’t know her place.”

“And you do?” Jimmy shook his head.

Thomas inhaled on his cigarette. “I understand the game.”

“The game?”

“It’s them and us — she thought she could be a them.”

“Branson did it.”

Thomas dropped his cigarette and stubbed it out with the heel of his shoe. “And he’s lucky Braithwaite didn’t bring him down with her.”

“We don’t know for sure what happened.”

“But we can guess, now can’t we?”

“Yes. So, Miss Baxter? You have something over her.”

Thomas nodded.

“It’s enough she’ll tell you things when you ask?”

“I think so.”

“What do you need to know? I mean why?” 

“I want to know what is going on this house. With everyone. Secrets can come in handy. You know that,” Thomas pinned Jimmy with a look.

“Right, yeah… But will you do something with them?”

“Maybe, maybe not…”

“You just like having secrets.”

“It’s about protection,” Thomas muttered and frowned. 

“Protection?” Jimmy stepped away from the table and closer to him. Thomas met his blue eyes and his mouth went dry. Jimmy stared at him a long moment, paused in mid motion, his cigarette raised to his mouth. “Ok,” he whispered out. 

“Ok….” Thomas echoed because he wasn’t sure at all what Jimmy meant, what Jimmy was seeing as they stared at each other. Because that was what they were doing. Or was he saying he understood? 

“What is it?” Jimmy asked. 

“What is what?”

“Don’t be coy, Thomas. What do you have on Miss Baxter?”

Thomas smirked and pulled a letter out of his coat pocket. “My sister sends me — well she sends me reports really, they aren’t letters. It’s in the fourth paragraph.”

Jimmy took the paper. Thomas continued to stare at him as he read. He looked beautiful in the sun, where he belonged Thomas thought. It brought out the gold in his skin tone, in his hair. Thomas forced himself to look down, before Jimmy looked up. He couldn’t make him uncomfortable. 

“This is the most boring letter I have ever read.”

Thomas laughed. “It isn’t a letter.”

“You’re right, it’s like bad reporting…. But wow, she was in jail? She stole!”

Thomas nodded.

“What makes you think she won’t do that here?”

“She won’t… get got conned into it by a man.”

“Right, right… but still, you sure?”

Thomas sighed. “She and Hazel were close, my sister, and I know her — I did a bit, anyway. It wasn’t like her, she paid the price. From what she’s said she’s keen to not make waves.”

Jimmy handed him back the letter. “Why does she bother writing you?”

“Don’t know, I never write her back.”

Jimmy was staring at him again with that expression. That sharp look in his eye that made it impossible for Thomas to turn away and also made him feel stripped bare. Only he didn’t know what it was Jimmy was seeing. 

“Waste of paper…” Jimmy muttered looking away 

Thomas nodded and cocked his head toward the door. “Will you be…” 

“At the piano?” Jimmy nodded.

Thomas grinned right at Jimmy, caught himself and hurried himself away and back inside. Back to work. Thoughts of Jimmy playing the piano in the front of his mind. He was addicted to it. This pattern of theirs to meet at it at the end of the day. Smoking, chattering and then Jimmy playing. More and more it was Jimmy’s own song. It was a song now, unfinished and rough, but it was haunting and beautiful. It was answering a question, one Thomas didn’t know and he was getting more and more curious. 

But he stayed silent. He kept the fact he knew what Jimmy was doing a secret and silent. He was afraid Jimmy would be upset if he knew Thomas knew. He never speaks about it, the music, just plays it and gets lost in it. He doesn’t notice when Thomas slips from the room — the music having relaxed him to the point he had to force himself to go to bed. At least he doesn’t think Jimmy notices when he leaves the room. Because Jimmy’s never mentioned it, or asked him why he has left. 

Sometimes there are new notes, or a variation of the old the next night, the next time Thomas leaned against the wall by the piano and watches Jimmy’s glid over the keyboard. The music slid over Thomas, and he wondered if that was close to what Jimmy felt. Or what Jimmy wanted the music to do — Thomas was sure he had complete control over the sound. 

It was his favorite part of all his days. 

~~~

Jimmy couldn’t get the letter from Thomas’ sister out of his head. It wasn’t a letter. Not a real one. It reminded him of the letters he’d written for his mother. Dry sentences about mundane and stupid things, because he couldn’t tell her what the warfront was truly like. He couldn’t do that to her but he couldn’t write well enough to say anything of interest. So he sent her boring one page missives about something stupid his superior officer said, about the girl his friend Pete had waiting at home. About how bad the food was and how he missed hers… Jimmy frowned. That made his better than Thomas’ sister. Because there was nothing of Thomas in the letter. No questions, no mention of missing him, nothing about how maybe something made her think about him. Not it was just news about her and her family. 

He curled his hands into a fist as he made his way down the stairs. Why did he even read them? They deserved to just be tossed in the trash. Why write if you don’t even really care enough to reach out to the reader? Jimmy knew he could guess why, he knew he knew why — but they just made him wonder why Thomas’ sister wrote at all. Why did she bother? Why did Thomas read them? 

“Oh, I’m sorry, James,” Baxter said as they nearly collided on a landing. 

“No, my fault,” he said. “And it’s Jimmy.”

She nodded. “Of course.”

“Getting along well?” he asked. 

“Yes, yes. The family is quite nice.”

Jimmy nodded. He liked the Crawley’s well enough, when he thought about it, which wasn’t often. 

She showed him the dress she was holding. “Better be on my way, just stitched up a small rip for her Ladyship, she wants to wear this tonight.”

Jimmy nodded and watched her walk up the stairs. Struck by Thomas mentioning how his sister and her had once been close. How he knew her? She knew Thomas… from before? 

“How well do you know Mr. Barrow?” he asked her without thinking. 

She stopped and turned. “I knew him growing up.”

“Can’t really picture him as a kid,” Jimmy said. Attempting it but all he saw was the man he knew. Tall, handsome, brave and imperious. 

She gave him a soft smile. “He was a sweet boy.”

Jimmy nodded because he believed it.

“You believe me?” she asked. 

“Of course, why not?”

She shook her head sadly. “It doesn’t matter, I’ll see you later, Jimmy.”

“Later,” he said and started down the stairs. 

“Will you be playing the piano?” she called after him.

He felt a strange urge to tell her no, which was ridiculous. Because of course he would be playing and of course everyone would be listening. At least for a while before finally it would just be him and Thomas. Thomas was really the only one he wanted hearing his song… he was the only one who never asked him question, looking to find out who the song belonged too, or as Ivy kept lamenting why it wasn’t something one could dance too. The song belonged to him, but he couldn’t admit that… 

Not yet. He still hadn’t found he answer he was seeking. 

“Jimmy?”

He gave her his most charming grin. “Of course, and I do take requests.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said and then left. 

He watched her walk up the staircase. Thomas was right, she wouldn’t steal from the Crawleys. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of her. He didn’t like how surprised she was he believed her about THomas being a sweet kid. He reminded himself that he was one of the few who saw Thomas being kind. Who knew he could be? Maybe she thought it’d grown out of him? That was sad, he thought. 

He sighed. He was thinking about him too much. His brain was Thomas, Thomas, Thomas. But he couldn’t seem to stop it, no matter how hard he wished too. His confusion was getting worse by the day and he didn’t know how to deal with it all. 

Ignore him. Ignore him for the rest of the day. Ignore him and stop thinking about him. Avoid him tomorrow — not today because you promised to meet at the piano. Avoid him tomorrow he’s allowed to avoid you when he needs too….

You can avoid him when you need too. Jimmy steeled his spine and hurried the rest of the way downstairs. His mind focused on doing his duties. Maybe he’d flirt with Ivy — remind himself of the right way to act. 

~~~

Thomas was not in a good mood when he walked into the servant’s hall and walked up to the piano. Jimmy was sitting at it but he wasn’t playing but Thomas didn’t notice. He just leaned against the wall and glared down at him. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Barrow,” Jimmy said, again. It was his third apology over the entire thing. But it wasn’t doing anything to soothe Thomas’ bad mood. He didn’t at all understand what the hell had happened. The story made little sense to him and he found himself glaring at Jimmy.

Jimmy sighed and looked down. 

Thomas rolled his shoulders. “Well, play then.”

“I can’t.”

“What?”

Jimmy rolled his eyes at him, his expression becoming a glare. He held up his wrist, it was wrapped in a bandage and he growled out. “It hurts.”

Thomas sighed and grabbed Jimmy’s wrist, making him hiss out. Thomas stared at the bandage. “Who wrapped this?” 

“Daisy.”

Thomas rolled his eyes and moved to sit down on the piano bench. “Move to face me.”

Jimmy moved his leg over one side and then they were sitting face to face, like they’ve so many other times. Thomas gave him a small grin, all his irritation suddenly faded away now that he could smell Jimmy, now that he could feel his body heat. “She do it wrong?”

“Badly,” Thomas tutted and he started undoing it. “This was about impressing, Ivy, then?”

Jimmy looked away from him, his cheeks reddening. “It wasn’t me best moves.”

Laughter appeared in Thomas chest. “No, I’d say not.”

“I’m charming me.”

“You are,” Thomas tried to meet his gaze. “I’m sure Ivy found it all charming nonetheless.”

Jimmy sighed. 

“Do you…” Thomas sighed. They were friends, he thought, maybe he should ask this, despite not wanting too. Not wanting too at all. “Do you like her?”

“Who, Ivy?” Jimmy met his eyes again his expression incredulous. “No.”

“Oh.”

“I was just bored,” Jimmy said with an odd tone.

“Right,” Thomas nodded. “I used to encourage Daisy.”

“What?” Jimmy asked. 

“Before the war… she had a bit of crush on me.”

“Really?” Jimmy grinned. “Daisy was soft on you?”

“That really so surprising?”

“It’s just… doesn’t she know?”

“Didn’t then, don’t know now.”

“Ow,” Jimmy winced and tried to pull his wrist out of Thomas’ hold. Thomas held on though and started to wind the bandage over his sprained wrist correctly. “That hurts.”

“It’ll feel better soon enough.”

“What’s your point?” Jimmy asked.

“William, he was a lot like Alfred. Simple, boring. He was in love with Daisy.”

“Wait, isn’t that the guy she married?”

Thomas nodded. 

“So…”

“So, I was bored… and I fanned the flames of her crush on me at his expense.”

“Then you understand.”

Thomas smirked and finished wrapping Jimmy wrist. “Sowing chaos isn’t worth a broke wrist though. Don’t be a show off.”

“Can’t help myself there.”

Thomas met his eyes and they both started laughing. 

“I am sorry, you had too…”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Really? I know you were mad.”

“I was.”

“And now your not?”

“No.”

“Just like that?”

Thomas smiled. 

Jimmy smiled back at him but then looked away. “I can’t play,” he whined. 

Thomas watched as Jimmy’s expression lost its mirth and turned sad. 

“Was looking forward too…” he trailed off. 

“You’ll be back to it soon enough.”

Jimmy looked at him. “Yeah but…”

“What?”

“What if I lose it?”

“Lose?” Thomas asked. 

Jimmy closed his eyes and sighed. “It is just… sometimes the notes are fleeting.”

“Could you write them down?”

“How?”

“I could write them?” Thomas offered thinking about his wrist.

Jimmy laughed but it held a note of sadness. “Couldn’t tell you how? I mean I do this all by ear you know… I can read music a bit but… I couldn’t guess at what the notes I’m hearing look like.”

Thomas frowned. Jimmy’s music should be in black and white he thought, others should know it, learn it, listen to it and know it. “You’ll have to learn then.”

“Yeah?” Jimmy laughed. 

“Yes, Jimmy,” Thomas said, deciding to make that happen.


	24. Chapter 24

“Going out Mr. Barrow?” Miss Baxter asked as he walked down the stairs.

“Yes, seeing as I am wearing my hat.” He stepped into her personal space at the bottom of the stairs. “Is there anything you have to tell me.”

She stepped backward but shook her head. “There is nothing to tell.”

Thomas frowned. “Nothing?”

“No.”

“Well, pay better attention,” Thomas snapped and walked off down the hallway. She was proving to be more than a bother than an asset. He made his terms clear when he helped her get the job. He wanted to know what was being said upstairs where he couldn’t listen in and hear it himself. As much as he didn’t miss Mrs. O’Brien, he did miss knowing what her Ladyship and his Lordship were saying in their bedroom. 

“Hey, where you going?” Jimmy’s voice called out from behind him.

“Thought I take a walk down to the village, stretch my legs.”

“Without me?” Jimmy said and then ducked his head, shaking it. “I mean, could it wait? We could both go…”

“It’s my half day Jimmy, I want to get out of here.”

“Don’t we both,” Jimmy said.

“Fair point…” Thomas felt cornered. Jimmy couldn’t come with him. “I have some errands, it’d be boring.”  
Jimmy opened his mouth but closed it just as quickly. He then let out a breathe and nodded. “I hate boredom. But ennui outside beats ennui over silverware.”

Thomas chuckled. “Next time our days off align, I will get out into the fresh air, Jimmy.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Jimmy grinned. “Well, on with you, your errands won’t do themselves.”

“Neither will the silverware.”

Jimmy groaned and turned around.

Thomas watched him walk down the hall, his heart beating. Somedays were harder than others. Being so close to him and not at all close enough. He sighed and walked outside. Once out there, he fished out a cigarette and started the long walk down to the village. 

~~~

Stupid old women. Thomas stalked out of the second damn middle class bitch’s home. He wasn’t asking for anything out of line and they were acting offended and looking down at him because he was servant. Because he was asking for something different than usual. 

He stopped at bench on the walkway. Pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Then the pulled out the short list. He had one more place on the list. But was it worth it. He inhaled deeply and let the smoke burn his lungs. His eyes slipped closed and music started playing in his head. Beautiful amazing music, melodious and different. 

He had to try. For Jimmy. 

He got up and walked toward the last address. The house was more modest than others. He walked up the front and rang the bell. He was still angry from his prior visits. He was still unsure he should bother with this — it was likely to turn out like his last two visits. 

The door opened and he blinked. The person staring at him wasn’t a maid, nor was it an old woman. Maybe she was the daughter. “May I help you?”

“Cecilia Griffin live here? The piano teacher?”

“I’m Cecilia,” she smiled. 

“Oh.” Thomas was surprised. He looked at her. She was around Lady Edith’s name and pretty. It was nearly enough to make him turn around and not ask her. But Jimmy’s music was still playing in his mind and he set his jaw. This was important and if… well Jimmy would enjoy it for more than one reason. 

“Do you have child?”

“What?” Thomas realized he’d just been standing there in dumb silence. “No, no. I’m the Under Butler at Downton Abbey.”

“Oh. The grandchildren are still a bit young for lessons.”

“That’s not why I’m here.”

“Okay, well come in and you can tell me.”

“Thank you, Miss Griffin.”

“Cecilia. Please,” she said with a cheery smile and Thomas felt a jolt rush through him. She reminded him in that instant of Lady Sybil. She walked them into a small sitting room, made smaller by the large piano that set in the corner. “I just moved in here with my Aunt and I don’t really have that many students yet.” 

“Right. About that… This is a bit of a favor.”

“A favor? And we’ve barely met. Actually, what’s your name.”

Thomas felt his face heat up. He was making a mess of this. Anger flared and he blamed the old women again, with their haughty reactions and gall to act offended by his offer. “Thomas Barrow, I apologize.”

Cecilia just smiled. “What’s the favor?”

“I have a friend and he can play the piano. Quite well, he’s brilliant actually.”

“Brilliant?”

Thomas smiled and nodded. “He’s very talented.”

“I see… sounds like he doesn’t need a teacher.”

“Well, that’s where the issue comes in. He plays by ear, he knows a bit about reading music but not all he should. And he… I think he’d like to know how.” He braced himself for the inevitable, the haughty reaction and the unfounded offense that he’d ask them to teach someone who was a grown man. How they were teachers, meant to teach young ladies and men of importance. 

The anger at it all made him nearly stand up. Jimmy wasn’t less than the rich, he better than most from his perspective. He wasn’t someone to discount due to his age, or his gender, or his bank account. 

“Okay.”

“Fine,” Thomas said in a clipped voice. “Wait, what?”

“Sure. If he’s as great as you sold him I’d like to hear him play at the very least. Plus, anyone who loves music should be able to read it.”

Thomas settled back down in his seat. “Really?”

“Of course. What’s his name? Does he work at Downton Abbey?”

“Jimmy Kent. And yes, he’s a footman.”

“A musical footman,” she clapped. “When can he come?”

“Oh,” Thomas hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I still have to tell him. I wanted to be sure he could get a lesson before…”

“It’s a surprise?”

Thomas nodded.

She was studying him. “You must be close.”

Thomas tensed under her stare. “He’s a good friend,” he emphasized friend. 

“Well, here…” she got up and went to a desk and pulled out a sheet of paper. “This is my asking price and my hours. Like I said I don’t have many students yet, so if he wants to just drop by when he can. I’ll have the time.”

Thomas nodded.

“Feel free to come with him if its possible.”

“Uh, thank you.”

Cecilia gave him yet another warm smile. “You’re welcome. I mean really you made my day. I love surprises and oddities.”

Thomas laughed and it surprised him. Usually being caught out as odd made him tense, made him fear but she was different. He liked her and the fear laced through him that Jimmy would too… But no, he deserved this. 

“Well, I’ll bring it up to him.”

“I’ll expect him. I think, I’ll be disappointed if he doesn’t show up.”

Thomas nodded and he made his way out of the small house. He walked down the street a ways toward home. His heart pounding. He wasn’t sure how that happened. She gave him a good feeling and bad one all at once. She was all warm energy and pretty smile. 

~~~  
Jimmy was trying not to stare at Thomas. He darted his eyes back to the cards in his hand. They were playing with Alfred, the two of them winning easily, as always. Alfred was plain horrible at cards and only really seemed to try to win if Ivy was taking part of the game. Which was pretty much never. Thomas was being uncharacteristically quiet. He wasn’t always chatty but he liked to gossip and talk. But he was being quiet and in a weird way. But that wasn’t the only reason Jimmy kept finding himself looking. 

It was his damn hand. It was the way he held his cigarette, rolling it between his index finger and middle. How he brought it up to his mouth. Jimmy inwardly sighed and told himself to get a grip. But it was getting harder and harder. And harder. He shifted in his chair but felt his cheeks heat up when Thomas caught him looking. 

Jimmy grinned. “You’re quiet.”

Thomas shook his head and indicated Alfred. 

Jimmy had forgotten he was there but Thomas’ reaction told him that something was up with Thomas. He wondered if it was about his errands. Thomas’s energy had felt weird to him when they’d said goodbye earlier. Like it did now. “It’s getting late,” he said at Alfred.

Alfred looked over Jimmy’s shoulder at the clock. “So it is, better be the last round.” 

Jimmy winked at Thomas. 

Thomas’ mouth quirked up and he ducked his head down, hiding his amusement behind his set of cards. “Good idea, Alfred.”

“Don’t know why you think so, you two will stay up another hour at the piano.” Alfred said off-handedly. 

Jimmy paused mid card throw. Was that true? Was it that… normal? Him and Thomas at the piano every night. It made a weird feeling slide down his spine and his stomach fluttered on and he glanced at Thomas. It was important to him but he didn’t want it to be weird. Was it weird everyone took it for granted? Because he didn’t. He didn’t take it for granted, in fact he was always afraid Thomas would get tired of watching him play. 

“What of it,” Thomas sniped. 

“Nothing. Just saying,” Alfred said and then he groaned as he lost yet another hand. “Well, off with me. Good night.”

“Good night,” Jimmy said out of polite habit. Thomas remained silent. Jimmy gathered up the cards, they were his after all. Pulling them together and giving them a couple of shuffles. Thomas watched him from where he sat and started tapping his fingers against the table. He was nervous. Jimmy eyed him. 

“I, um…” Thomas stammered. 

Jimmy shoved the deck into one of his pockets and looked up sharply. Thomas never stammered, or stuttered. He was always poised, even when things had him ruffled. He rarely wasn’t certain and surefooted. In fact the time Jimmy recalled seeing him lost and unsure was that night in his room. As Jimmy screamed at him get out and away from him. 

Thomas inhaled smoke on a sigh and shook his head. 

“What is it?”

“I, well… I looked into something for you. And it panned out. I didn’t want to bring up, until I was sure it could be done.”

“Uh, what?” Jimmy was confused. What on earth would Thomas be looking into for him. Why would Thomas look into anything for him? “I don’t…”

Thomas pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and slid it across the table. Jimmy took it and unfolded it. He stared at the page. The first thing he saw was a drawing of a piano and the first word he saw was lessons. From a Miss Cecilia Griffin. He frowned and read hours she was available and then saw the price. It was doable. That was his first thought but then he shook his head. He could already play. “I don’t understand,” he said looking at Thomas. And he was sure he’d never seen Thomas look so nervous. 

“I told her you can already play,” Thomas said. “But that you can’t read music as well as you’d like.”

“Oh.” Jimmy felt a grin tugging at his mouth and his heart rate picked up. He had to look away from Thomas, seeing him looking at him nervous but hopeful. Knowing what he’d done for him. Thomas done this for him. “Really?”

Thomas nodded. “She was willing, the only one. Went three places and met two the most horrid old bats. If you’re going to be an old bat at least have some class like the Dowager.”

Jimmy laughed. “So third old bat?”

Thomas chuckled. “She’s not old. She’s very pretty, actually, you might thank me for that too…” he trailed off. “Not that I expect…”

“I am. Thankful,” Jimmy said, ignoring what Thomas said about the woman. “She’ll teach me? I mean really, a footman who is too old for lessons?”

“She liked the oddity of the request…” Thomas trailed off again but the he smiled. “I liked her.”

Jimmy eyes widened at that. “Really?”

“What?”

“You liked her?”

Thomas shrugged. 

Jimmy grinned and looked at the paper again. “Yeah, I’ll check it out.”

Thomas’ entire body relaxed before Jimmy eyes and he smiled sincerely and fully. Jimmy felt his breath hitch at the sight of it and told himself to get a grip again. “You don’t feel I was overstepping?”

“No. No. I appreciate it, Thomas…” Jimmy took in a breathe and glanced at the piano. “I, um.. I appreciate that you like my playing.”

“Of course I do,” Thomas said. 

Jimmy grinned and flexed his wrist. Happy it was healed. He cocked his head toward the piano. “Shall we?”

Thomas nodded. They both sat down on the bench, they’d been doing that more and more. Jimmy nudged Thomas shoulder and closed his eyes. Letting his mind drift and tell him what he felt like playing. 

His song. That unanswered question, he was trying to answer. It was all he played lately. Or at least when he and Thomas were alone. He felt it was annoying the others. Ivy kept telling him to give up on it, he was never going to figure out that song. Alfred would chime in and agree, saying something about if he couldn’t learn it by now, why did he keep trying? He wanted to snap at them, tell them it was his own song, his own music but he couldn’t… 

He wouldn’t. 

He glanced at Thomas. If Jimmy told anyone, he knew who he’d tell. The only person he could trust to not judge him, to have faith in him. He grinned at Thomas and began to play.


	25. Chapter 25

Jimmy took one last inhale off the cigarette, then let it slip from his fingers onto the ground. He stepped on it and looked down at his feet for a moment. They were walking, crushing rocks into the earth. Beside him, Thomas’ feet were doing the exact same thing. They were in sync, he thought idly before looking up again. 

“Give me a cigarette,” he said. 

They both had the same half-day, which happened to line up with Jimmy’s first lesson with Miss Griffin. Jimmy wasn’t a fool. Thomas had arranged it. He’d suspected it when Thomas off-handedly told him last night. Then today as they set out to leave Carson had been quite surprised to they were both off. Thomas however just lit a cigarette and told Carson if he didn’t believe it to look at the schedule. He would find it all in order. Carson glowered in response and told them not to stay out too late. 

“Already?” Thomas glanced over at him.

Jimmy glared at him. “Just give me one.”

“Hold your horses,” Thomas put his own cigarette between his lips and pushed his left hand into his jacket pocket. He pulled out the pack and his lighter and handed them over to Jimmy.

He grabbed them and quickly lit a cigarette before offering the back. Thomas took it back, looking at him in that way he looked at people. Where he was trying to read them, trying to ascertain all their secrets. Jimmy felt his cheeks heat at the scrutiny but he focused on smoking the cigarette. 

“Are you nervous?” 

“What?” Jimmy huffed out a chuckle. “No.”

“If you say so,” Thomas said, turning to look straight ahead. 

“I do. I’m not nervous, why would I be nervous.”

“You shouldn’t be.”

“No.”

Jimmy focused on smoking and the fact he and Thomas were walking in step side by side. Thomas seemed to be lazily smoking his cigarette because he still wasn’t finished when Jimmy realized he finished his. Which wasn’t right? He never smoked faster than Thomas. It just didn’t happen. He didn’t smoke near as much or often. He stamped out his other cigarette and itched to ask for another one. But… 

“You smoking slower?” he asked Thomas.

“Not at all.”

“Oh.”

“Do you want another?”

“No, no, don’t need one…” Jimmy glanced behind them. He could still see Downton Abbey. He felt an urge to turn around. 

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” he snapped. 

Thomas chuckled lowly. 

“I’m not nervous.”

“Didn’t say you were,”

“Your… why you get the day off anyway?”

“Wanted to see you to your first lesson, is all.”

“Oh,” Jimmy felt his face heat up again and he looked down at his feet. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Jimmy started humming. It was his song. It felt like the thing to do but he wasn’t sure he’d share it with the piano teacher. He didn’t know her. A part of him hated that all the servants heard it. But the piano was in the servants hall so it made it necessary if he wanted to play. If he wanted to figure it out. Only person he didn’t mind listening was Thomas. But even he didn’t know the secret. He didn’t know either of Jimmy’s secrets. 

He glanced over at Thomas. He let himself stare for a moment. He looked great in his blue suit, brought blue out in his gray eyes. He was stylish and he looked as immaculate as always did. Handsome, almost pretty, if Jimmy was honest with how Thomas’s face made him feel. He shook his head. He couldn’t — _could I_?

“Never heard you hum it before.”

“I hum.”

“Never heard you him.”

“Well, I do.”

“I hear.”

Jimmy kept humming. 

“Are you going to play it?”

“What?”

“What’re humming?” Thomas asked him, looking over at him and Jimmy felt he was being studied again. Thomas with his intense stares. But he was staring back and the sound stopped in the back of his throat. 

“Don’t stop.”

“I can’t answer and hum.”

“Touché.”

“No.”

“Good… I mean why not?”

Jimmy send him a questioning look but Thomas turned back to watch where he was walking. “Just…don’t want to start with this song.”

“I see.”

“Yeah.” Jimmy started humming again after a few more steps he started feeling antsy again but when he turned around the Abbey was to far in the distance for him to make a run back toward it. “Give me another one.”

Thomas chuckled again, low in his throat and Jimmy felt his stomach dip listening to it. But it was annoying him too because he wasn’t nervous. “I’m not nervous.”

“Did I say you were?”

“You’re thinking it.” Jimmy took the cigarettes and pulled one out of the pack. When he handed it back Thomas fished one out of it too and he held up his lighter. He lit his own before handing it to Jimmy. Jimmy took it and had to look away from him. 

“It’d be fine if you were.”

“If I was what?” Jimmy inhaled smoke. 

“Nervous.”

“It would be. But I’m not.”

“Of course not.”

Jimmy scowled and they continued to walk. Once again he finished his cigarette before Thomas did his and he started to hum again. But his heart beat was getting louder. He could feel it in his chest and he was feeling restless in his skin. He started humming louder, hoping to drown out his heartbeat. He wiped his palms on the inside of his suit’s pockets. He felt sweaty. 

“This way,” Thomas said as he changed their direction. 

Jimmy paused a moment, making himself fall out of step with Thomas. Now he was a step behind him and they were passing houses. Nice ones, better than the ones he grew up in. He glanced at Thomas and wondered what kind of house a clockmaker was able to afford. How did Thomas grow up, he found it hard to imagine him as a child. Hard to imagine in anything other than livery and white bow ties. 

“Jimmy?” Thomas looked back toward him.

Jimmy realized they were more than a few feet apart. He wiped his hands on the inside of his pockets again and sighed. “I’m nervous.”

Thomas gave him a look full of knowing and low amusement. He shook his head. “It’s to be expected.”

“I’m too old for this. Why she even agree?”

“She was curious.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That you were really good but needed to learn how to read music.”

Jimmy sighed. “What if I do it all wrong?”

“We already know you don’t.”

Jimmy laughed. “I don’t know why I’m nervous really.”

“It’ll be fine. You will like her. And she’s quite pretty…” Thomas started walking.

Jimmy hurried until he fell back into step with him. “Ivy’s pretty and I don’t much like her.”

Thomas laughed. 

“I’m just making a point. Why will I like her?”

“I like her.”

Jimmy huffed out a laugh. “That is saying something. Just who do you like?”

“You, her, Miss Sybbie and Master George.”

“Quite the long list,” Jimmy grinned and nudged him with shoulder. 

“There isn’t much to like in many people.”

Jimmy frowned and looked at him again. That was Thomas’ wall, he kept himself apart from people on purpose. In fact Jimmy was sure Anna and Mrs. Hughes were on his list but he wasn’t about to admit to them. But it did say something he liked this woman. Jimmy knew that. It said a lot. 

“She’ll help you.”

“I never…” Jimmy sighed. “You didn’t need to do this for me you know.”

“I wanted too.”

Jimmy nodded. “When you’re nice. You’re really good at it, Thomas.”

Thomas’ cheeks reddened and he looked away. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t let it get out.”

“You’ll have my gratitude forever,” Thomas said after a beat. Then he stopped short. They were at the gate for a small yellow house. Jimmy looked at it and saw the sign for the lessons. He took in a deep breath. 

“This is it then.”

“This is it. I’ll go to the pub while you in. Meet me there?”

Jimmy nodded and his throat went dry and he wiped his palms again. 

A hand fell on his shoulder, lightly but enough for Jimmy to feel something slide down his spine. He looked up into Thomas’ gray eyes. “You deserve to learn this. No reason to be nervous.”

Jimmy nodded and grinned up him smugly. “Don’t worry, I’ll charm my way through.”

“You always do.”

Jimmy nodded and Thomas’ hand fell off his shoulder. It felt weirdly empty, Jimmy thought but he brushed the thought away as he walked up to the door. He took another breath and knocked on the door. 

“Jimmy Kent?!” A young woman announced to him as she opened the door. 

“Yes.”

“I’ve been looking forward to you all day! Come in.”

He glanced backward and saw Thomas still standing there. They gave each other smiles and Jimmy walked into the house. His eyes went directly to the piano. His feet took him directly to the piano. He reached out and touched it and stared at it. “This is much nicer than one we have downstairs at the Abbey.”

“It’s my prized possession. I’m Cecilia.”

“Hi,” Jimmy said turning toward her. He felt suddenly awkward. “I’m Jimmy Kent, but you know that.”

“You’re friend, Thomas. He told me you were brilliant but couldn’t read music. Play by ear only?”

“Brilliant?” Jimmy blushed and shook his head. 

“His words. He was quite impressed by you.”

 _He’s in love with me_. It could have hit him anytime on the walk to Cecilia’s that Thomas was in love with him. Any moment in their conversations. At any point during any day. Yet whenever it did hit Jimmy, it felt like new information. It was like a dawning revelation every time it hit him hard in his chest and low in his stomach. And more and more, it was was bothering him less and less. 

“Jimmy?”

“Sorry. Thomas can exaggerate.” He shook his head. 

“Well, I will say he talked you up so high, that I had to hear it for myself. Peaked my curiosity. Though, my family has often said I’m too curious for my own good.”

“I’ll probably be a let down.”

“Have you played it by ear all your life?”

“My mother did it. I guess I picked it up from her.”

“Talent does run in families. My father was quite the pianist.” 

“I doubt I’m as good as Thomas made me sound.”

“Fear he might have a bias?”

“Know it, actually,” Jimmy admitted and instantly worried about. But she just grinned at him and pointed toward the piano.

“I’ll be the judge of that. Pick a song from my songbooks that you know and play it for me.”

Jimmy nodded, took off his head and put it on the piano. He slide onto the bench and had to take a moment to steel himself. He got to touch this piano. That alone was worth fighting his nerves, was worth owing Thomas something forever. He reached out and looked at the songs. Grinning he picked the song he’d played at the pub. The song that won him the money. He played it straight for her, thinking maybe he shouldn’t show off right off the bat. Maybe he was growing as person. When he finished he looked toward, where she was standing by him. She was turned so she could see his fingers on the keys. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was open. 

“You taught that to yourself?”

“I guess that’s what you would call it.”

“Get up.”

Jimmy stood up.

“Okay, um, turn around.”

“What?”

“I don’t want you to see my hands on the keys.”

Jimmy laughed and turned around. 

She started playing something that was slow and melodious. He’d never heard it before but he liked it. He realized what she was doing so he listened carefully. Halfway through she changed the pace, then the melody changed ever so slightly. She stopped. 

“Okay. Play that.” She ordered like it was a challenge. 

Jimmy sat down and took a breath. He pressed a key, here and there, like he had when decided to play that lullaby for Thomas. Having to figure out the right keys. But once he thought he did he took a breath and played the piece. Seeing right before got there how she changed the melody. He let out a little laugh when he saw it, because he was certain he was going to screw that part up. He finished and looked at her. He knew he screwed up a place or two, but could get it with a few more listens and practice. 

“Okay. You are brilliant,” she said shaking her head. “Wow.”

Jimmy felt himself blush. 

“Okay. So I need to teach what the notes and things look like. Definitely don’t need to teach you how to play.”

“I would like… I have this…” he stared at her. She was really nice, informal and she was staring right at him listening. Thomas was right, she was likeable. More likeable than most the people he met. “I’m writing this song. But it’s all in my head and it’s getting longer.”

“Well, then I’ll teach you how to get that down on paper. Do you want to play it?”

“What? No!” he said it too harshly. 

Cecilia just laughed. “I don’t like sharing my own songs either. Maybe another time.”

“Yeah, another time.”

“Once we’re friends. Okay, my first question is do you know what the notes are called?”

Jimmy laughed. “Lady Anstruther… I worked for her before I worked at Downton. She taught me the scale and a few notes. But I mostly just played for her.”

“Well, I’ll start there anyway. You’ll learn it all quick I think. I can give you workbooks.” 

“Homework?”

“Well this is learning the piano, Mr. Kent.”

“Jimmy.”

“Somehow I thought so. Okay, play the scale for me.”

Jimmy nodded and realized all his nerves were gone. He liked her and she wasn’t making it at all awkward he was going about this so late in his life. This was good. He was going to have to find a way to thank Thomas for this properly. Words were too small.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession time. I know nothing about music. NOTHING. I'm totally bullshitting this. The only reason I am telling you this is that I was on youtube and a stumbled onto a song. 
> 
> This Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zBkaivhLNao&index=3&list=LLr5ZN_S-jWMm_Hf_A5Mq2DA 
> 
> The Piano in this song is uncannily close to what I have been hearing in my head when Jimmy's playing the piano and writing his own song. So, thought I'd let you guys know and you can listen if you want too.


	26. Chapter 26

“Thomas?”

Irritation prickled up his neck. He inhaled a lungful smoke, thinking he’d blow it right into the person interrupting his readings face. Only to see Wyatt. Thomas shifted his seat and let the smoke free in a slightly different direction. He was surprised to see the valet in the village because usually Wyatt announced his closer visits and this was Thomas’ home. 

Wyatt looked nervous. “I doubt you’re fond of surprises?”

Thomas raised a brow and wondered when this man come to know anything about other than what he liked physically. “They aren’t on my list as a favorite thing, no.”

Wyatt gestured toward the seat opposite Thomas. Thomas felt a rush of possession wave through him. That seat was for Jimmy after all but he sighed, looking around the Grantham Arms. 

“Unless…” Wyatt looked at him wearily. 

“Oh, sit,” Thomas said, grabbing his pocket watch. He frowned at the time and realized he truly had no idea how long Jimmy’s lesson would be. “I’m meeting a friend but am unsure when he’ll arrive.”

“A friend?” Wyatt asked, his voice innocent but his eyes searching. 

Thomas averted his eyes and focused on his cigarette. Conflicting emotions and facts crashing together in his mind. Was Jimmy just a friend? No. But wasn’t it? They were friends. Mates. Nothing more. Thomas clenched his jaw and tapped ash into the ashtray. “A friend.”

“Good,” Wyatt breathed out. 

Thomas looked up and met Wyatt’s dark eyes and felt a stab of want. He was attractive, he was a good kisser, he knew Thomas well enough and he was cautious and smart. Thomas might trust him if he was the type to trust people. “I suppose,” he said but let corner of his mouth quirk upward. “What brings you here?”

“I’m honestly, unsure. His lordship just announced the trip and here we are. He went for a walk… he never walks. I’m quite suspicious.” 

Not enough, Thomas thought. But Wyatt was all gossip and no actual curiosity. Thomas would be following Lord Grantham right now in Wyatt’s footsteps. If only Lord Grantham had it in him do something so odd… Thomas felt curiosity warm in his belly. “Do tell… What happened exactly?” 

“Always such a gossip, Thomas.”

Thomas grinned all teeth. “You know me well… Was there a phone call?”

“No. I think there may have been a note.”

“A note?”

“Mrs. Arrin, her Ladyship’s maid, she mentioned something about a note making him leave the room quickly. Thought it might explain the trip.”

“Did he speak of his reasons for coming?”

“No, no. Just that we’d be overnight at the least.”

“At least?”

“Yes, we packed for a few days. I’m unsure why.”

Thomas felt impatient. Wyatt was amazing at telling but he lacked the foresight to find the good bits of what he should be telling. “Which direction did he go on his walk?”

“He went…” Wyatt grew silent, thinking Thomas waited. Impatient. He let his eyes rove up and down Wyatt’s face and chest. He didn’t like the man for his brain, that was sure, but he had assets. 

“Left,” Wyatt finally said with a smile. He leaned over the table, put his hand near enough to Thomas’s their pinkies touched. “Could have a cigarette?” he asked to cover the gesture. 

“Of course,” Thomas said and fished him out one, lit it and offered it over. “He said nothing before leaving?”

“Just to take care of myself and not worry about him.”

Thomas was shocked. “Wait, what?”

“It is odd, right?” Wyatt asked him genuinely. 

Thomas shook his head. “Very….” He looked toward the door. He wanted to get up and go after the erstwhile lord. It was thumping in his chest, why wasn’t Jimmy here. He let out a long breathe. “How long ago did he leave?”

“Oh… how long have we been talking?”

Thomas swallowed a growl of irritation. _Damn it_. 

“What is it?” Wyatt asked. 

Thomas exhaled a cloud of smoke at him, this time, because here he was offering an amazing mystery and he had to sit here and ignore it. He looked at the door and willed Jimmy to walk in. If he walked in the next minute or two, maybe the three of them could catch up with the Lord and get the really good details. The kind of details Thomas could use for his own gain, if needed. 

“Can I buy you a drink, Thomas? When is your friend arriving…” Wyatt put his hand back down, letting his fingers brush Thomas. “We can discuss things,” he asked with hopeful smile.

Thomas swallowed a sigh and shot Wyatt a grin. Because yes he’d sleep with him. That was the least the man owed him now. “A drink would be lovely, Wyatt.” 

~~~

Jimmy’s mind was full of music. Key names and musical notes written on a page. It was more than he knew before and Cecilia said she was probably going about things backwards with him but it wasn’t like she had to teach him to play. She had to teach him how to write and read it. They’d gone over his allotted time, but she laughed him off when offered to pay her extra after her Aunt had walked in and pointed out it was time for their supper. 

Cecilia invited him to stay but he told her he was meeting Thomas. She apologized for making him late, but Jimmy just laughed and shook his head. Thomas would understand and Jimmy knew Thomas brought a book with him. The next mystery they were reading together — sort of. Thomas would read them and give them to Jimmy. Jimmy would then read chapter by chapter, and pepper Thomas with questions and theories trying to suss out the murderer. It was the only way he could manage a mystery he found without flipping straight to the end. Thomas made it a game and he never gave it away. It was infuriating. 

Jimmy grinned. He couldn’t wait to tell Thomas about the lesson and the music he’d played for her. New and old. Something she played for him that he never heard before. He could hear it now in his head, he’d play it for Thomas when they went home. Thomas would like it, it was slower and old fashioned. It was clever too, Jimmy thought and intelligent things always made Thomas smile. 

He pushed open the door the Grantham Arms. The room was full, it being dinner hours. There was smoke and chatter everywhere. He looked around the room, looking for Thomas but not finding him. Jimmy frowned, he wouldn’t have left, there is no way he left. Jimmy was still sure he’d have his nose in the book. He looked around the room again, remembering that Thomas told him he’d probably get a corner table. He focused on the darker corners of the pub. And found Thomas, only he wasn’t alone. Another man was sitting across from him, leaning over the table and laughing at something Thomas said. There were bottles on the table but no food. Jimmy wasn’t sure if Thomas waiting for him to eat or not made him feel better or not. 

Who the hell was that guy? Jimmy made his way over to table, his eyes on the man. He looked familiar, there was something about him? What was it, Jimmy just couldn’t place it. It was going to drive him mad. “Thomas,” Jimmy announced as he stopped at the table. 

Thomas looked up at him and grinned. Full on grinned and Jimmy staggered a bit at the brilliance of it. He took in Thomas’ appearance and realized he must be a bit drunk. His cheeks were pink and then there was the smile. 

“You’re here? Jimmy’s here,” Thomas said to Wyatt. “Jimmy this is…”

“Wyatt Brooke,” the man said introducing himself after a beat. 

“Jimmy Kent.”

“And you work at Downton too.”

“First footman.” 

“Following in Thomas’ footsteps.”

“Trying,” Jimmy said with a smile and he pulled out the chair next to Thomas and sat down. “What brings you to Downton.”

“He doesn’t know,” Thomas laughed. 

“What?” Jimmy shot Thomas a look.

Thomas shook his head. “It’s a mystery.”

Jimmy chuckled and tapped the book that was on the table. “Murder?”

“I certainly hope not,” Wyatt laughed.

“Lord Hollywick, went for a walk right after they arrived. And they are staying at least one night, maybe more,” Thomas explained.

Jimmy turned to look at the door. “Wait? When?” He looked at the table at the bottles. “Oh, it’s been way too long to run after him,” he muttered in disappointment. 

“Do what?” Wyatt laughed.

But Jimmy was looking at Thomas. Thomas’s eyes darted to Wyatt and rolled slightly. Jimmy pressed his lips together so he wouldn’t laugh. “Spy,” Jimmy said to Wyatt.

“On the Lord?” 

Thomas offered Jimmy a cigarette. “We wouldn’t dare do that, Jimmy, right?” 

“Of course not, Mr. Barrow,” Jimmy said taking the cigarette.

“How was it?” Thomas asked.

“What?” Jimmy asked. 

“The lesson?”

“OH.”

Thomas stared at him and then he broke out laughing, with such sincerity that Jimmy felt punched in the gut. He never seen or heard Thomas like this. He needed to get him drunk, while they were alone, he wanted all the attention. Not that Thomas was noticing, Wyatt, who ever he was.

“How you could you forget?”

“I was distracted by a possibly murder mystery and…” Jimmy just looked at Wyatt. 

“Wyatt,” Wyatt himself said again. 

Jimmy gave him a look. “Yeah, you,” he snapped.

Wyatt tensed and shot Thomas a worried look. 

Thomas wasn’t looking. “So?”

“It was,” Jimmy paused. He didn’t know how to tell him. He looked at Wyatt and realized he didn’t want to talk about music with Thomas in front an audience. No, this was private, this was his thing and he wouldn’t share it with some stranger. “I rather wait to talk about it.”

“Oh, don’t mind me.”

“I do mind,” Jimmy snapped.

Wyatt shifted nervously in his seat, his eyes directed at Thomas with a sudden sharpness Jimmy hadn’t expected from the man. Suddenly a fuzzy memory popped into his head. Thomas and this man, leaning over a similar table, smiling, hands almost touching. Jimmy’s eyes went to the table and there was Wyatt’s hand, just shy of too close to Thomas. This was.. This man was… 

“Oh,’ Jimmy breathed out shocked and his eyes darted between them. 

“Thomas?” Wyatt’s voice sounded high to Jimmy’s ears but he was too busy silently asking a similar question to Thomas.  
Thomas met Jimmy’s eyes and Jimmy felt a small relief that he really didn’t look as drunk as he seemed. He was still Thomas, he was still thinking but Jimy couldn’t read his expression. He didn’t know what he was thinking here, about him, Wyatt, the situation. 

“Thomas?” Wyatt repeated. 

Jimmy rolled his eyes and wished the man gone. Just gone. Angry clawed at him. He didn’t want to be in this situation. At all. He didn’t want to know that Thomas. Thomas slept with this man all those months ago, when Jimmy had been still trying to tell himself Thomas was his enemy. Thomas had slept with this guy, this boring, stupid, guy. 

“It’s okay,” Thomas said but Jimmy wasn’t sure who it was to. 

“Uh…” Wyatt opened his mouth. 

“It’s okay,” Thomas said again and Jimmy watched his eyes dart to the man across the table. “Jimmy and I, will go order our meal… Don’t. Stay, Wyatt. It’s okay.”

“Okay?” Wyatt echoed the question loud in the air. 

Jimmy got up with Thomas and they walked into crowd. Thomas leaned into Jimmy a bit, walking next to him, shoulder’s brushing. “I didn’t know he’d be here.” 

Jimmy glanced at him but didn’t speak because he didn’t know what to say. 

“You don’t mind the walk back, alone?” Thomas asked him then, trying to keep eye contact. 

Jimmy focused ahead of him and hit the bar first. He instantly shouted for a drink and then looked at the menu, not that there were much choices. It was a pub. But at least it wasn’t another Patmore stew. 

“Jimmy?”

Jimmy made himself turn and looked right into Thomas eyes. Thomas was staring at him, his cheeks pinched in the way they got when Thomas was unsure and uncertain. His eyes were wide though and imploring. 

“It’s okay,” Jimmy said, repeating Thomas’ words from early. 

“Is it?”

Jimmy shrugged. “No big deal, right?”

“No, suppose not,” Thomas said but he didn’t look relieved or happy like Jimmy expected. 

“You like him?” Jimmy asked. 

“Not particularly.”

Jimmy frowned then.

“He’s a dolt… But he’s also a gossip, not that he asks any questions about what he hears. Why he feels a need to share it I’ll never know.”

“But, you’ll…” Jimmy grabbed his drink and motioned wit”h it.

Thomas shrugged.

“But he’s stupid,” Jimmy pointed out.

“So’s Ivy.”

Thomas had him there. “Well…” he shook his head. 

“When we get back, just find a way to let Wyatt know he needn’t worry about you.”

Jimmy focused on his drink again and tried to push the intense hatred of Wyatt he was feeling away. It was uncalled for, he thought, he had no reason to hate the man. Other than that he had relationship with Thomas A physical relationship, something very different than what Jimmy and Thomas had. 

They could have a physical relationship, a traitorous thought in his head pointed out. No, no, he couldn’t deal with that, not now, not here. Maybe never. He’d decided that, hadn’t he… that would remain his secret. A secret he wouldn’t think about. Now wasn’t the time to question, just because Thomas was with this other man. 

He didn’t own Thomas. Feeling possessive of him wasn’t right. Not when he couldn’t deal with things. He couldn’t stop Thomas from being happy. He shouldn’t stop him from being happy. He had to let him take pleasure when and where he could find it. He wasn’t like Jimmy. Jimmy could seek out a woman anywhere. He had to move under people’s noses, with half truths and half speak. Thomas had to lie.

“Jimmy?”

Jimmy turned and looked at Thomas again. Taking in the nervous expression. No that wouldn’t do. It hurt Jimmy, seeing Thomas nervous and afraid. The memory of Thomas offering toast after the night he kissed him. The fear in every edge of Thomas’s face that morning. This wasn’t that, but it was close enough. It was close enough and Jimmy never wanted to be the reason for it. Not again. Not at all. He couldn’t give Thomas what he wanted, not really, but they were something. They were best mates and he couldn’t let Thomas worry like he was in this moment. He just couldn’t. 

“It’s okay, I will.” Jimmy hoped he was good enough of a liar.


	27. Chapter 27

Thomas watched Wyatt leave. He wouldn’t follow him right away, he’d wait around fifteen minutes, maybe longer — since Jimmy was with him and they were finally alone. He wanted to ask about the lesson, Jimmy put him off earlier when he asked because of Wyatt. He should’ve realized Jimmy wouldn’t want to discuss something so private with a stranger in front of him. But Thomas was impatient to know and now that Wyatt had left, he could ask again. But when he turned back to Jimmy, Jimmy was staring in the direction Wyatt taken through the crowd of the pub with a strange expression on his face. Pinched, irritated maybe? 

A strange feeling started to prickle under Thomas skin. Jimmy said he was fine with it. Fine with who Thomas was, fine with what Thomas was about to do… But was he really? Thomas didn’t feel strange about what he planned do with Wyatt, he felt a bit impatient for it — it’d been far too long since he’d been touched and touched someone besides himself. But he did feel strange knowing that Jimmy knew. Jimmy knew. No one was supposed to know. That was dangerous. It was always risky. He could never trust anyone — O’Brien had reinforced that lesson. But he trusted Jimmy, sometimes that knowledge hit and threw him for a loop. Because he didn’t trust anyone. But he trusted the man across from him and the expression on his face was worrying. 

“Tell me about the lesson,” Thomas prompted. His impatience to know getting the better and the urge to distract Jimmy from Wyatt an even stronger impulse. 

Jimmy glanced back at him but his eyes darted back to the crowd for a brief moment. “How long are waiting?” 

“Fifteen minutes, give or take. We should leave together,” he lowed his voice. “I should look like I’m heading back to the Abbey.”

“Right, right, of course,” Jimmy nodded and picked up his drink. 

Thomas watched him take a long pull of it and found he wasn’t happy at all about the awkwardness at the table. But he no idea how to diffuse it, so he picked up own drink. He was feeling quite numb in the face, he probably should stop, but he found he couldn’t. Not in the moment. 

“I really liked Cecilia,” Jimmy said. 

“I did too.”

“I saw why. You weren’t wrong, either, about her being beautiful.”

The word beautiful felt emphasized and Thomas couldn’t stop the jealousy that rose up inside of himself. He looked down at his beer and tried to let it ebb away. 

“She tested me.”

“Tested?”

“On playing by ear. Played me something, never heard it before. I think she may have written it but that felt too forward to ask. You know?”

Thomas nodded.

“She was impressed.” Jimmy grinned smugly. 

“Of course,” Thomas said.

Jimmy kept smiling at him but then ducked down and shook his head. “She said I lived up to the expectations you gave me.”

“I was flattering.”

Jimmy shook his head again and looked back up at Thomas. Thomas felt his breath catch, the look was intense. Almost penetrating. “I really owe you.”

Thomas shook his head. 

“I do, though… It was fun, the lesson and I got homework, but I find I don’t mind it. I really want to write…” Jimmy stopped himself. 

Thomas tried not to grin, he knew Jimmy wasn’t quite ready to talk about his own music. That it was his own music. He thought Thomas was just helping him understand music better, he didn’t know Thomas’s main wish was for Jimmy to finish his song, to write it down. He wanted to give Jimmy that and it seemed he was on the path to it. 

“I want know how to read it,” Jimmy amended. 

“I’m sure you will in no time.”

Jimmy finished his beer. “I’m going to get another…”

“Oh. Okay,” Thomas nodded. “I should stop.”

Jimmy was half way out of his chair but he froze. “Oh, you have to leave. I guess…”

“No, no,” Thomas interrupted. “It’s best I wait, go, I’ll wait.”

Jimmy nodded but quickly looked away and then he was gone. Thomas finished his drink and lit a new cigarette. He fiddled with the lighter between his fingers. The weirdness settling back over him about Jimmy knowing about Wyatt. And that maybe he was not at all comfortable about it? And should Thomas really expect him to be? It was a lot to ask a man not of his own kind to accept. Jimmy probably couldn’t understand at all why Thomas wanted to be with men. 

Jimmy slid back into his seat and reached over, fishing a cigarette out the pack and grabbing the lighter from Thomas’ hand. Their fingers touched and Thomas felt that jolt of energy, that low pull in his stomach he always did when this happened. He was a fool, he thought, still so drawn to Jimmy, still so enamored. He watched Jimmy light the cigarette and pull on it, his mouth pursing up and wished he didn’t find it all so attractive. 

“I want to go back to that bar… Where I won that contest.” 

Thomas looked up from Jimmy’s mouth. Their gazes locked and Thomas felt like Jimmy was looking oddly intense. Maybe it was because he was petering on the edge of being really drunk. “Do you?”

“Yes. Think you could manage to get us a full day off soon?”

Thomas smirked. “I just finagled this, Jimmy.”

“Like pushing your luck isn’t something that gets you off.”

Thomas laughed and shook his head but Jimmy was right. 

“See.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Thomas said. 

“You do that.”

“They’ll let you play.”

“Maybe I can win more money.”

“You mean you can show off to the crowd.”

“That I do,” Jimmy looked smug. 

Thomas grinned at him until he saw Jimmy duck his head down, averting his eyes away from him. Thomas realized he’d been staring, quite blatantly, and he took in Jimmy’s pink cheeks. He looked down at his cigarette. It was nearly finished, so he brought it too his lips. Then he stubbed it out and looked at his watched. It was well best fifteen minutes, Wyatt was going to think he was standing him up again. The thought made him look at Jimmy’s drink, it was nearly gone. “You aren’t too drunk are you?”

Jimmy laughed at him. “No.”

Thomas let out a breathe. 

“Why?”

Thomas remembered having to follow Jimmy back that night, keep him on track, get him up the stairs and into his room. “Nothing, nothing. We should leave together,” he reminded him. 

“Oh, is it time already.”

Thomas decided Jimmy didn’t need to know it was past time. “Yeah, sorry.”

“No big, kind of want to get to the piano.”

Thomas felt torn suddenly, Wyatt or Jimmy at the piano. “I’ll miss hearing it.”

Jimmy laughed. “You hear it all the time.”

“And never tire,” Thomas said. 

Jimmy smugly smiled. “I am good.”

“And modest,” Thomas laughed. “We should.” He motioned with his hand that they should stand up. Which they did, in unison and walked out of the pub and started down the path toward the Abbey. 

“How far are going with me?” Jimmy asked. 

“To the gate, up ahead, it loops around to the backdoor.”

“Huh, didn’t know that.”

“It’s good information to have.”

“I suppose, I won’t really have must use for it.”

“Never know,” Thomas said. “Meet the right girl.”

Jimmy laughed. “Not in Yorkshire.”  
“Perhaps not.”

They reached the gate and stopped. Thomas swallowed a sigh. Why was this so difficult? He wanted to be in Wyatt’s room. He did. But he looked at the man next to him, taking in his body and his face. He wanted Jimmy more, he couldn’t deny it. But he was denied it. Jimmy could never give him what he wanted. Ever. Thomas looked away from him and cocked his head in the direction he needed to slip off to. 

“Guess, I’ll see you later?”

Thomas nodded. 

Jimmy gave another intense look. “Be careful,” he said, softly. 

“I will,” he said and forced himself to walk away. He didn’t look back but he thought he felt Jimmy’s on him. He wanted it too much, though, so he told himself he was imagining it. Refusing to look because a part of him would be hurt at the truth that Jimmy would be gone. 

~~~

Jimmy watched Thomas until he disappeared from sight. He was unhappy and uncomfortable. He sighed and wished he’d begged for a few cigarettes off of Thomas before he left. He needed something to do with his hands and the strange energy that had him feeling off balance. It wasn’t the beer, it was him, no it was Thomas. It was Thomas’ fault. Going off with that valet, that Wyatt — a man he didn’t even like. 

Like is important, he thought thinking about Anstruther and some of the girls he’d been with. It’d been sex. Sex was fun. Sex was good. Images of Wyatt and Thomas together assaulted his mind. He groaned and started walking toward the general store. Maybe a cigarette could get the visions swimming in his head out of them. He didn’t want to see that, or think that, he didn’t want to think about Thomas and some other man. 

No. He didn’t want to think about Thomas at all. At all. It wasn’t about an other man. That implied. No, no, no. He’d decided this, he’d chosen to ignore it all. It was what he was supposed to do, it was what was right — they said. 

They said. 

Jimmy ran his hands through his hair and went up to the counter. Grabbed what he wanted and made a face as he handed over his money. He hated spending his money on things he could just get. But Thomas and his cigarettes were elsewhere. And now he was thinking about it again. He stomped his way out of the store and back toward Downton. He thought briefly about turning around and going back to the pub. But would people notice that? Would they wonder where Thomas went, if he went back alone? Would that cause a problem? 

Worry rushed down his spin and a wave of fear washed over him. What if they hadn’t fooled anyone? What if someone figured out what Thomas and Wyatt were doing. That they were now together and in a room, committing crimes. How did Thomas deal with this fear? Was he afraid? He was so damn brave, to an extreme that was stupid…

 _He walked into your room and kissed you in your sleep._ Ill-conceived and stupid. But brave in a daft way and that was Thomas wasn’t it. He wasn’t fooling anyone, almost everyone knew about him despite it never been spoken out loud. He didn’t hide who he was, good or bad. Mostly bad. Jimmy found himself smiling. Thomas was such an asshole. 

An asshole who took risks no mere man would ever take. That Jimmy couldn’t take. He couldn’t take the risk, he couldn’t and he was damn sure he didn’t even know how. How could anyone do that? Yet, both Thomas and Wyatt were — and Wyatt didn’t strike Jimmy as brave. He wasn’t interesting enough for a trait such as that, yet he was risking his freedom to be with Thomas. 

_Something you won’t do._

Now he was worried and angry. Worried Thomas might get caught, it was clawing at him inside out. He inhaled deeply on the cigarette and started coughing because he rarely did that… Inhaled it and held it like Thomas did. Another thing the other man had over him. Jimmy shook himself and told himself Thomas could take care of himself. He knew what he doing — maybe? Jimmy sighed. The risk and his own fears at that risk making him angry. 

He was angry and wasn’t quite sure what the hell to do with it or what he was most angry about. That Thomas was risking everything, or that the world was forcing Thomas to risk everything? Or at himself for being a coward who never risk it. He tried to clear his head, he tried not to think about what Thomas was doing. 

The latter turned out to be the harder thing to avoid. To clear out of his mind. He kept picturing Thomas, clothes undone, hair a mess, his head thrown back, neck bared and eyes closed. Jimmy clenched his fists and fought against putting himself into the scene. Because that would never happen. No Wyatt — that boring sod was getting it. Having Thomas. Jimmy frowned and lectured himself to stop but he couldn’t seem to. Maybe once he got the piano, he could let the music clear his mind. That usually worked, sometimes when he was at the piano the world turned nothing and it was just him and the notes. It was magic and it was all his. 

He pushed open the door and nearly ran right into Mr. Carson. Carson looked down at him and Jimmy chafed against the condescension in the butler’s expression. “You’re just getting back, James?”

Obviously. “Yes, Mr. Carson.”

Carson looked over his head and out the door. “Where is Mr. Barrow?”

“I don’t know,” Jimmy said.

“Didn’t you leave together?”

“We did but we went our separate ways, I’m not his bloody keeper.”

Mr. Carson raised an eyebrow at him. “Watch your tongue.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Carson.” _No, I’m not._

“Very well, carry on,” Mr. Carson said and walked out the door. 

“Thanks for the bloody permission,” Jimmy muttered and made his way into the servants hall. It was blissfully empty and he took off his jacket and hat. Then sat down at the piano. He didn’t take out the music sheets he’d been given. No he needed his own sounds, his own notes. He started playing, the angrier notes of his unanswered question. The frustrating portion of it all. He pounded it out and finally his mind began to clear.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note: Concrit is 100% welcome. On all my story. But specific to this one, if you think they're sounding too modern, please to c/p the moment in a comment and let me know. thanks.

Thomas leaned against the outside wall of Downton. It was his favorite spot to stand and smoke. Breath in the air and take a break from the tediousness of his day. His cigarette hovered in front of him mouth as he watched Jimmy walked away from Downton. It was a week later and it was his second lesson with Miss Griffin. Thomas felt ill at ease as he watched Jimmy disappear in the distance. It wasn’t that they weren’t talking. Because they were. Just now before Jimmy left they stood and smoked together. The length of time of one cigarette. They talked about nothing, they laughed about Alfred almost spilling tea onto Isobel Crawley’s lap. Jimmy complained that Carson was getting on his case about the petty of details. It was all very usual. It was their life, their day but they weren’t quite laughing as much. They were smirking at each other over the heads of the others. Thomas didn’t find himself the subject to Jimmy’s attempts to get him to break decorum during the day. And he missed it. He missed having to fight so hard no allow his mouth to quirk up into a smile. He missed Jimmy being a cheeky bastard.

Maybe it was all in his head. There was still their nights at the piano. Jimmy’s music had had a new life to it since his first lesson. He was focused and intense as he bent over the piano. Completely lost in his own world. But now and again he’d glance to the side, looking for Thomas. And Thomas would smile. But they didn’t talk, they didn’t whisper. Later when they were both upstairs, Jimmy would walk into his room and pepper him with questions about the current book they were ‘reading’ together. It was the most they talked. In that brief thirty minutes. It was where the most words passed between them but it was about fiction. It had little to do with them. 

Thomas wish it was awkward. Thomas wished Jimmy seemed mad at him. He wished he was mad at Jimmy. But he wasn’t. He couldn’t be — well, he could but would never last long. He would assume it was about Wyatt, that it was about Thomas having sex with him. But Jimmy asked him about right afterwards, sincere and maybe not all that interested in details. Beyond if Thomas was satisfied. The conversation been oddly easy but Thomas felt like it was the last easy they had before this — oddness settled over them. 

It wasn’t Wyatt. It wasn’t what Thomas was… He almost certain of it but it nagged at him. Because what else could it be? There was no other reason for the distance Jimmy was placing between them? Or was it Jimmy? Thomas sighed because the truth was he felt guilty about being with Wyatt. Which was ridiculous. He told himself that over and over. Every night sleep eluded him as unneeded guilt nagged at him. He felt wrong for being with someone else. Not when he loved Jimmy. 

And he did. He loved Jimmy. He’d thought about Jimmy the entire time. Eyes closed and imaging him there instead of Wyatt. Thinking that they would be laughing because Jimmy would tease Thomas, wanting him to smile. Like the game. The game Jimmy wasn’t playing during the day anymore. Everything with Wyatt been nice, really nice, but it hadn’t been enough and Thomas rolled into fantasies. Fantasies he rarely gave into thinking it wrong to be friends with Jimmy and carry on the torch he had for him. 

But he did. And even though he knew he owed Jimmy nothing when it came to his sexual relationships. He couldn’t help but feel like what he was doing was wrong. Because in the end he’d been with someone he hadn’t really wanted. Because that was his option. Because that was where the truth lay — he would never have Jimmy. As much as he wanted him. 

Maybe he was to blame then. Putting a distance between them because of the ridiculous guilt and the reminder of how deeply his feels go for Jimmy Kent. Maybe he was the one putting the oddness between them, causing the quiet. Maybe it wasn’t Jimmy at all. It was all Thomas, making it wrong footed and off. 

Sighing he finished his cigarette and walked back inside. He’d secured Jimmy the permission to leave a bit early for his lesson but promising to cover his duties. Everyone given him an odd look when he announced that he would gladly cover Jimmy’s dinner duties. Maybe he deserved that, they weren’t used to being nice. But surely they had noticed the exception was Jimmy. Yet they’d all acted surprised. 

He walked into the kitchen first to see how dinner was getting on. It was bustling and Mrs. Patmore was shouting. All seemed well and good there. He walked into the servants hall and was happy to see Alfred was no where in sight. Hopefully that meant he was doing his duty in readying the table. Thomas noticed Miss Baxter was sewing and he sat down across from her. 

“Mr. Barrow,” she said after a long beat, sounding wary.

Thomas opened his mouth, fully intending to ask if she heard anything of interest. Though she kept getting more and more irritatingly silent as the weeks wore on. The truth was he hadn’t asked her anything for awhile and he really should. He gotten her the job so she could keep him well informed and she wasn’t following instructions. And he was in a mood, things were strange with Jimmy and he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. It was a good time to remind her of her place. 

“Nothing.” He said instead and stood back up. “I should check that Alfred is doing his job…” he trailed off and gave her a look. 

“As you see fit, Mr. Barrow,” Miss Baxter said. 

Put her in her place, Thomas thought but his heart wasn’t in it and he had his own ear on what was happening in the upstairs and the truth was simple. Nothing was… nothing out of the ordinary anyway. There was no good gossip to be had. The only good gossip he knew was about Wyatt’s employee. The good Lord Hollywick was having an affair, and was taking various trips to places to meet the young women. It was juicy but Thomas didn’t think it was all that useful to him. It was to Wyatt but the thought would never occur to him. 

Thomas somewhat envied that. He walked up the stairs. His mind going to Jimmy again. He wondered how he was enjoying his lesson. How well he and Miss Griffin might be getting along. They had quite a bit in common, Thomas knew. Music, age, and Jimmy was charming. And Thomas found her charming as well — a rarity. Thomas sighed. He shouldn’t assume things, but it was hard not to worry about the idea of those two become romantically attached. 

Jimmy deserved love. If anyone did and he had all the options open to him. Thomas wouldn’t wish him not to act on those options. He knew Jimmy felt the same for him — not that his options are wide or varied. All of this was what ifs and Thomas shouldn’t be allowing his mind to wander. Jimmy was probably focused on the music. He’d been so intense about doing her homework, so focused on his own song. The intensity had been quite arousing and maybe that was another reason Thomas was possibly the culprit of the distance. Feeling too drawn to the dynamic and beautiful man. 

He stepped into the dining room and frown. Alfred wasn’t close to finished. “What are you doing?”

“Setting the table.”

“You should be nearly finished,’ Thomas sighed and set to work. Finding he was happy for the distraction. He barked orders at Alfred and rolled his eyes at him when he made mistakes. No wonder Jimmy complained about him so often — at least that hadn’t changed the past week. He gotten earfuls of Alfred is such a git.  
Thomas reminded himself that things weren’t awkward, they weren’t unusual. It was just it was oddly subdued and quiet. A distance but not a large one. Maybe it was just a lull, an up and down, life was that way. 

~~~

“You’re being quite serious.” Cecilia said about thirty minutes into their lesson.

Jimmy glanced at her from where he was focusing on writing down the notes of the simple piece she’d given him. “What?”

“It’s just that you were quite different last week. Joking, flirting.”

“Oh.” Jimmy turned back to the piece of music. He was out of sorts and been sure getting to his lesson would cheer him up a bit. Or at least distract him from the things rushing around in his head. It wasn’t working. 

“Something happen? Or is this more your usual personality?”

Jimmy glanced at her again. “You are a funny one, Cecilia.”

“I am quite _eccentric_ as my family likes to whisper.”

“Rather be eccentric than boring, I suppose,” Jimmy said, thinking about Thomas. He wasn’t eccentric, no, he could quite stuffy actually. Sometimes in some ways he reminded Jimmy of Carson. Though he never say that to Thomas’ face. 

“We are in agreement.”

Jimmy sighed. 

“Talk to me.”

“I was hoping the lesson would distract me.”

“Is it to easy? You’re doing quite well. Quick learner, I wager. Given your natural talent I’m quite unsurprised.”

“No, it’s not the task at hand… don’t think it’s too easy. Thinking on it enough.”

“Personal?”

Jimmy nodded. He thought about the past week with Thomas. He felt like they were avoiding each other, despite not at all changing their habits. They just feel quiet, in almost uncomfortable way. Yet it wasn’t too uncomfortable to called awkward. He felt on pins and needles around Thomas. He kept thinking about Thomas and Wyatt. He couldn’t seem to push the thoughts away. Thinking about him with another man. Thinking about the things that might entail. Finding himself fixated on how Thomas might look coming undone and he’d fall quiet and have to look away from his friend. 

“Are you courting someone?”

“No.”

“So it’s not a girl?”

Laughter bubbled up out of his throat, squeaky and strange and he shut his mouth and looked down at the key board. His fingers pressing the keys to the first refrain of his song without thought and the notes felt comfortable and safe. 

“That’s beautiful,” Cecilia said moments later. 

“It’s nothing,” Jimmy said but he kept playing. 

“What kind of trouble is weighing on you?”

“Can’t talk about it,” Jimmy said, glancing at her again. “Wouldn’t be polite for one thing.”

“Pishposh. I find polite so boring.”

Jimmy grinned at her tone and expression. “Even so…” he looked at the paper where he’d written down a few notes. He went back to the piece she’d given him. Simple, easy, but he wanted to get it right. 

“Ok. The lesson it is,” she said. 

Jimmy nodded but his mind kept drifting back to Thomas. Thomas and Wyatt. His own reactions and his complicated feelings. He was emotional mess. Thomas was the most important person in his life. He wanted Thomas to have happiness. Everyone deserved that, even those who didn’t fit into the world. Like Thomas. He wasn’t lucky like Jimmy. Jimmy could look at Cecilia and think her beautiful. Jimmy could imagine touching her in impolite ways and know he would enjoy it. Jimmy frowned as he glanced at the beautiful woman next to him and found he had no urge to do so — he didn’t even want to visualize it. 

Meanwhile Thomas naked and vulnerable with Wyatt wouldn’t leave his mind. Stop. Stop. He told himself and he focused back on the music. It was easy enough, music was his sanctuary. He could lose himself in learning it better, playing it and listening to Cecilia talk about it in ways he never heard before. 

Twenty minutes later though he found himself standing outside of her home. He started walking toward Downton Abbey but found himself stopping in front of the The Dog and The Duck. Suddenly he was inside and paying for a dark beer. He sat down at the bar but ignored everyone around him. He tried to clear his head, thought maybe the beer would help him clear his head. Loosen his shoulders because they felt stiff and his felt so tired. 

He wanted it to feel easier with Thomas again. 

He order a second and third beer. 

It didn’t work. He scolded himself for thinking it would as he walked. He felt a bit numb in the face and his mind was just on the right side of fuzzy. The air felt nice against his skin, the wind having picked up a bit. He looked up at the sky and it looked dark and threatening. He hoped he manage to make it back to Downton before it rained. He wished he stolen a cigarette from Thomas before he left. He’d meant to hadn’t he? It struck him then he hadn’t stolen a cigarette from him since last week. He’d long since gone through the pack he’d bought for himself. But he’d only took cigarettes offered. When was the last time he’d done something fun with Thomas? He frowned, the book discussion were fun but they weren’t trying to get Thomas to smile. 

He hadn’t been trying to get Thomas to smile. When that was all he wanted to do some days. It was fun and it was a hard to win game. But when he won it was amazing. Thomas’s smile was bright and wide. Surprising and made him look young and beautiful. 

He was beautiful. Most beautiful person Jimmy knew. He sighed. He shouldn’t think such things. He shouldn’t. But he couldn’t stop them, not anymore, they were there. And all thinking did was remind him he was a coward and afraid to do anything about it. 

What would happen if he wasn’t afraid? What would happen? No, that was dangerous question and a dangerous direction. He pushed it away and started humming. He hummed his song and tried to visual what the written notes would look like written down. He hummed his song and thought maybe he could at least write the first refrain. He grinned a the thought, losing himself in the safety of the notes. So, lost inside his head he was that it took a good ten minutes to realize he was slowly ambling around in a pouring rain. 

“Bloody…” he swore as he realized he was soaked. The alcohol seemed to be still keeping him warm. But he hurried his pace, wanting to get home before he he drowned.


	29. Chapter 29

He was freezing and wet when he finally made it back to Downton. He pushed open the door and stood just inside it. Dripping water everywhere, it was turning into a puddle. Carson was going to have his hide. He took off his hat only to make more water spray everywhere. He scowled and started to make his way down the hall. His shoes were squelching on the floor and he glanced behind him and he was leaving a trail. Forget Mr. Carson, Mrs. Hughes was bound to have a fit as well. 

“My heavens!”

Speaking of, Jimmy thought and he tried to give Mrs. Hughes his most charming smile but his teeth were chattering too much. “Evening, Mrs. Hughes.”

“What on earth were you doing in the storm?”

“Got caught in it, stayed a bit too long at the pub.”

Mrs. Hughes looked disappointed. “I thought you were taking piano lessons.”

“I am, Mrs. Hughes.”

“Well, I think next time you just focus on your task. Mr. Carson won’t like you dallying in the village.”

Jimmy fought to not roll his eyes. “I won’t do it again, Mrs. Hughes.”

“You’re causing a flood. Very well, I’ll have one of the maids clean it up. Get yourself upstairs and into dry clothes. The last thing we need is you catching a cold.”

Jimmy nodded and walked by her toward the stairs. As he reached them Thomas was coming down them and their gazes instantly locked. Jimmy was staring into grey depths. He felt like he could feel Thomas stare. He watched Thomas take in his full appearance. How his eyes dipped down and then back up to Jimmy’s eyes again. Jimmy found himself blushing, the heat on his face felt odd against the dampness of his skin. 

“Blimey.”

“I am a bit wet, Mr. Barrow.”

“Let’s get you upstairs before Carson sees you.”

They fell into step, walking up the stairs side by side. They’ve done it countless times. Sometimes talking, sometimes a comfortable quiet wrapped around them. This time it was the other quiet they’d been falling into. Not awkward but not easy. There was this low level uneasiness and it was weighing on Jimmy. He was afraid of it turning awkward. Of it becoming uncomfortable and it was the last thing he wanted. 

It would be too much like the year when he pretended to hate Thomas, when he was pretending it wasn’t also hating himself. He couldn’t go backward. He couldn’t allow him and Thomas to slip backward. It’d been on his mind the entire time he was at the pub, he mulled it over and over again as he drank. But he found no answers. And all he gotten for it so far was being drenched in a rainstorm he could have avoided. 

“Jimmy?”

Jimmy startled and realized he walked right by Thomas. He turned back wondering why Thomas stopped. “What?”

“Your room?” Thomas motioned toward his door. “Are you all right, Jimmy?”

“Was just in me own head.”

Thomas gave him a small smile. “You need to get out of those clothes. I’ll get some extra towels.”

He nodded and watched Thomas turn around. Jimmy went into his room, grabbed a towel and put it on his bed. He sat down on it, wanting to get out of his shoes first. He scowled when he saw how spattered with mud they were. It’d be pain to clean. He took them off and his wet socks, glaring at them as if they’d gotten themselves wet. Jimmy sighed and started to try undo his suit jacket, but his fingers kept slipping. He felt ridiculous. He gone and drank, wasted his money, and solved nothing. Just had even more questions in his head. 

“Quite a mess.” Thomas was in his doorway, watching him. 

“It’s fitting,” Jimmy mumbled. 

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Here.” Thomas held out the extra towels.

“Just put them on the bureau.”

“Oh,” Thomas said but he didn’t move. Instead he looked at Jimmy, then his eyes darted around the room.

“You’ve been in here before, Thomas. It won’t swallow you whole.”

“Last time was a necessity…” Thomas muttered referencing the nightJimmy came back drunk.

“So’s this.” Jimmy looked at him and hated what he saw. Fear. Fear of his bloody bedroom? Why? After all this time? Weren’t they past this? Thomas shouldn’t be afraid to walk into his room. It was foolish and stupid. Jimmy wanted Thomas in his bedroom. Jimmy trusted him. Didn’t Thomas know that? 

“Is it?”

“I’m a bit squiffy, haven’t lost my wits or anything. What I am is freezing,” he said as his fingers slipped on the button again. “And I can’t undo this bloody button.”

“Well then,” Thomas was in the room and tossed the towels onto Jimmy’s bed. “Stand up.”

Jimmy stood up and Thomas moved in front of him. Jimmy could feel his body heat and he shivered. Thomas deftly undid the buttons and then helped him shrug out of his coat. Jimmy inhaled smoke, starch and maybe that was sweat. He watched Thomas carefully set the jacket aside so it would dry. Too carefully. He frowned and watched him walk back up to him and start to efficiently unbutton his shirt. Jimmy looked up and tried to catch Thomas’ gaze but he was focused on the task. Nimble and professional. Distant. 

“You aren’t my bloody valet,” he snapped suddenly irrationally angry. This wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want Thomas only crossing his threshold to take care of him — not like this. 

“Oh,” Thomas said in a strange tone and he stepped backwards. “Sorry, sorry…”

Jimmy blinked confused and watched as Thomas took a few steps backwards and then started to turn around. He was leaving. Jimmy let out a frustrated breath and lunged after him. Grabbing Thomas’ shoulder just before he made it out of the room. “Where are you going?”

“Leaving aren’t I.” 

“No.”

“Jimmy you just said…” 

“I don’t want you to be my valet.”

“I understand. I do, I just thought you needed help… I’m leaving.”

“No. No.” 

“But?”

“I’m not telling you to get out, Thomas.”

“Then what are you telling me?”

“To stay in.”

“To stay in?”

“It’s just a room, Thomas.”

“I’m confused.”

Jimmy frowned, then he reached past Thomas and closed his door with a loud thump. “No leaving. But just let me dry my hair, water is dripping down my neck and into my ear.” 

“Unpleasant that…” Thomas said each word perfect and controlled. Jimmy knew that tone now, he knew it meant Thomas was fighting frustration. Jimmy scowled as he grabbed a towel and started rubbing it on his head. He wasn’t the only one. 

“I mean you were undressing me like I was a Lord. I’m your best mate,” Jimmy muttered. “Then there is the whole…” he dropped the towel, shrugged out of his shirt and pulled off his vest. “…only entering this room if I need help.”

“Jimmy,” Thomas voice sounded desperate. It had an edge to it Jimmy hadn’t heard in a long time. Last time he heard it things were awkward and the thought of that happening clawed at him. 

“Shit.”

“I’m leaving.” Thomas turned toward the door. 

“No, no, no,” Jimmy rushed forward and got between him and door. 

Thomas stepped backward and looked everywhere but at Jimmy. 

“Look at me,” Jimmy said, simply because he wanted Thomas to look at him. And maybe if he saw Thomas’ face or what was in his eyes he’d figure out how make sure this didn’t become a problem. 

Thomas shook his head. 

“Thomas?” he pleaded. 

Thomas looked at his face, but it was a brief moment before his gaze dipped down. Undisguised want etched on his face as his eyes took in every inch of Jimmy’s bare skin. After a long moment his glanced up and caught Jimmy’s gaze. Thomas eyes showed more than want. They held more want, confusion and anger. 

“I’m looking, Jimmy” Thomas’ voice echoed his eyes which dipped back down.

It wasn’t unexpected. It wasn’t unwanted. Maybe that was supposed to feel odd. A piece of him wanted it, but what he wanted most. In this moment was for Thomas to know his attraction to him didn’t bother Jimmy. He didn’t care if Thomas found him attractive. He stopped caring long ago. That was a different version of him, someone who was never him. But this standoff wasn’t helping. This wasn’t going to solve anything. Standing there under Thomas’ heated gaze was only going to cause more problems. And Something had to help. Jimmy needed them to be okay. He needed Thomas. Jimmy couldn’t stand even the thought of any distance between them. 

He searched for something to say, or do — he was good at actions. But what could he do? The piano wasn’t here. Would that even work? He met Thomas’ eyes, the want, the confusion, anger and rising impatience. If he was at the piano Thomas would know the notes he chose to play would mean apology. But they weren’t downstairs and mere words weren’t enough. He was the one half-naked it was Thomas who was fully exposed. He needed to level the playing field, he needed to expose himself more fully. It came to him slowly, a lot like the notes sometimes appear in his head. He knew what to say. 

“You know that refrain I play, the little pieces I’m always playing and replaying. It doesn’t belong to anyone but me. It’s all me. It’s this question that’s inside me and I’m trying to pour it out into the world. But it’s hard, it’s really hard because I don’t know the answer. All I know is the music is inside me, it wants me to play it and it’s going to give me the answer. That’s probably a funny thing to say. But it's true. It’s all of me in those notes. All of me. And sometimes it’s really hard to play it because there are so many ears downstairs. So, I pretend only you can hear it. I pretend you’re the only one who can hear me. Because you’re the only one I want hearing it. It’s like you’re a part of the song. And I love every moment we spend down there at that piano because… I don’t think I’d know the question I’m trying to answer, or any of the sounds I play, any of it without you.”

Thomas eyes widened and his entire expression shifted into something softer. Less angry and less pain. The frustration seemed to lift off of him and Jimmy breathed out in relief. Thomas averted his eyes for a moment and then looked back at him. The want still there but guarded, controlled and Jimmy wasn’t sure how he felt about the latter. Thomas moved then and grabbed a towel off the bed. It was larger than others and he walked over to Jimmy and wrapped it around his shoulders. “You’re shivering.”

Jimmy laughed out all nervous as Thomas words brought the cold back to his notice. Jimmy grabbed his hand, the glove scratched against his palm. “You don’t need an excuse to come in here. That was all I was trying to say, I fouled it up.”

“Oh… You did foul that up.”

“Things have been weird.”

“I noticed.” Thomas said. 

“I don’t want them to be.”

“I know…. I mean, I know. About the song, your song. I have for a long time, now.”

Jimmy found he wasn’t surprised. “That makes me happy.”

Thomas grinned. 

“Wait? Is that… that’s why you found Cecilia.”

Thomas looked away but Jimmy caught the flush on his cheeks. Jimmy felt a million emotions rush through. Happiness, gratitude, amazement, but the strongest one scared him. The urge to run from it slammed into him. He felt like he couldn’t breathe but he wanted to breathe. He wanted the fear to lose. Jimmy suddenly became terrified of making the wrong move. This was a moment. He couldn’t do the wrong thing or say the wrong thing. 

“I wish I were braver,” he whispered. 

“Your music is brave.”

“I don’t mean my music,” Jimmy said. 

“Jimmy?” 

“I want us to be okay? I don’t want awkwardness?”

“There is no awkwardness.” 

“Things been quite and uneasy. I don’t want it to turn into something worse.” He’d bared his soul, he could speak it. He could throw the light onto it. Maybe it will dissipate away at the mere mention. He finds himself hoping.

“Me too.”

“Any ideas?”

Thomas pulled his hand from Jimmy’s and wrapped the towel tighter around his shoulders. “Get out of the rest of your wet clothes, take a hot bath and meet me at the piano. We can take it from there.”

That was perfect.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thomas POV of last chapter.

Thomas stared at the closed door. Jimmy shut the door and snapped at him to stay in his room. But Jimmy's room made Thomas uneasy because he couldn’t separate from that night. It was his reminder of the lines he crossed and not to take Jimmy for granted. How he’d been forgiven for that night was something he was sure he would never understand. He counted it a blessing, not that believed in blessings, but he’d take this one. This one blessing. Jimmy himself had asked him inside had told him it was only room. Because of course he knew, he understood why Thomas had hovered at the threshold unable to enter. Not without permission. Jimmy offered it freely and perhaps impatiently. Jimmy asked him for help and he was powerless to deny him. 

That scared him.

Which was why he felt more frightened now and why he felt so confused. Because Jimmy’s mood seemed to turn on a dime and he was angry and yelling. And Thomas was sure he crossed a line again, some invisible line he hadn’t taken into consideration. Maybe Jimmy noticed him inhaling the scents of rain, dirt and Jimmy’s own as he unbuttoned the jacket. Or how his eyes trailed over his neck just a fraction too long. He’d tried to keep it professional as possible but it was Jimmy and he was standing there like he wanted to be. Like he didn’t mind being so close to him. But it turned so fast and so sudden and Thomas felt the tears in his eyes and his nose filling up. He had to leave he had to get out. And he muttered apologies and he rushed to the door. 

But Jimmy was there, at the door, shaking his head and yelling no. He fought Thomas on leaving, he told him he wanted him to stay… Jimmy wanted him to stay. But he wasn’t comprehending it, did he want him away from him or near him? Jimmy seemed half crazed and confused himself and Thomas couldn’t help but wonder if he was more drunk than he seemed. 

He needed to leave, it was all too much, Jimmy was overwhelming his senses. Again and that was dangerous. Thomas could make bad decisions because he’d be driven by emotion and hope. He already asked him to stay and then he pushed him away. He curled his hands into fists. 

“No leaving. But just let me dry my hair, water is dripping down my neck and into my ear.” Jimmy said to him, his tone ridiculously conversational. 

“Unpleasant that…” Thomas said but he didn’t care about drops of water. 

“I mean you were undressing me like I was a Lord. I’m your best mate. Then there is the whole only entering this room if I need help.” 

The words were gibberish, Thomas couldn’t process them all he could do is stare and want to clock Jimmy for his thoughtlessness. He watched in horror and pleasure as Jimmy stripped not only his shirt but his vest. All he could see was skin and suddenly he did care about water drops cause one was dripping down Jimmy’s collarbone and another was making it’s way down his shoulder, towards his arm. 

“Jimmy,” Thomas cried it out in warning. Thomas pleaded for Jimmy to see the damage he wrought. He dared to try to look him in the eye.

Their glances did catch, they always did, Thomas realized. Jimmy’s royal blue eyes looking confused for a split second before understanding and shock flickered through them. He stared at Thomas and looked down at himself. 

“Shit.”

That covered it, Thomas thought wryly. The hurt he felt wrapping around the anger that wouldn’t dissipate. Jimmy stood where he was and Thomas tried to will him to put a shirt on. If he didn’t cover up, Thomas needed to run, he needed to run. 

“I’m leaving.” He ran for the door but Jimmy once again was blocking his exit. This time gloriously half-bare, Thomas stepped back away from all the skin and he looked everywhere but at Jimmy. Why was he doing this? Didn’t see Thomas was stripped bare and down. Didn’t he see all Thomas could give him right now as need, want, lust and too much more. He couldn’t stop it and he was as emotionally bare as Jimmy’s chest. He had to know? Didn’t Jimmy know him well enough to understand this by now? Why was he pushing this? What was he doing? He had to let him leave.

“Look at me, Thomas?” It was soft but pleading. An edge to the tone of voice Thomas was sure he never heard before. Suddenly everything felt different and even more spun around. That odd quiet that settled around them for the past week, it was here, in this louder moment. It was underpinning everything and making this moment so much different and more intense than any of the other times Jimmy thoughtlessly provoked Thomas’ love. 

Thomas felt bold. He felt a sudden need to look, to take it all in and enjoy it. He felt a pull to force that Jimmy, let him see that he doesn’t understand what he’s asking for and that he doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want Thomas raking his eyes over him and yearning to touch. He doesn’t want Thomas looking at him and imaging all the ways he wished he could make Jimmy scream. 

He looked. A brief glance at Jimmy’s eyes which he found looked surprisingly soft and the he dropped his eyes to his body. He watched the few droplets of water, trace the path that he wished his tongue to follow. He took in every inch of him he could see. Noting the light trail of hair under his belly button, splattering of freckles here and there against golden skin. His fingers itched to draw palms and his palms wanted shove at his chest and pushed him down on a bed, Thomas looming over him. Thomas savored it all and he glanced back up at Jimmy’s face. 

His expression was soft, there was a blush on his cheeks. Thomas expected his eyes to be averted away from the intensity of his gaze. But Jimmy was looking right at him. Their gazes locked and Thomas saw nothing he expected to see in it. No discomfort, no disgust, no hatred. Nothing close to it in fact it felt like the opposite. It felt like acceptance only Thomas couldn’t be sure because he’d never been given that before. He was aware again how naked and out there he felt. He was dangling off an edge and only Jimmy could save him. But he feared he wouldn’t. 

“I’m looking,” he said as his eyes dropped again and he would. He would until Jimmy stopped him. There was no turning back and he hoped Jimmy knew, that Jimmy understood the precipice they stumbled upon. 

Jimmy stood there for a long time. Staring at him, not shying away but he looked as lost as Thomas felt. Thomas begged him silently to speak to say something. Do something. And after a long moment something shifted in Jimmy’s expression and his mouth opened. 

“You know that refrain I play, the little pieces I’m always playing and replaying. It doesn’t belong to anyone but me. It’s all me. It’s this question that’s inside me and I’m trying to pour it out into the world. But it’s hard, it’s really hard because I don’t know the answer. All I know is the music is inside me, it wants me to play it and it’s going to give me the answer. That’s probably a funny thing to say. But its true. It’s all of me in those notes. All of me. And sometimes it’s really hard to play it because there are so many ears downstairs. So, I pretend only you can hear it. I pretend you’re the only one who can hear me. Because you’re the only one I want hearing it. It’s like you’re a part of the song. And I love every moment we spend down there at that piano because… I don’t think I’d know the question I’m trying to answer, or a any of the sounds I play, any of it without you.”

Thomas staggered back the minute he realized Jimmy was telling him about his song. The minute he heard the word refrain he felt put back together again. Jimmy was sharing his secret, Jimmy was giving Thomas a piece of him. In that first sentence Jimmy pulled them off the precipice and rescued them both — but he didn’t stop there. 

_I pretend you’re the only one who can hear me. Because you’re the only one I want hearing it. It’s like you’re a part of the song. And I love every moment we spend down there at that piano because… I don’t think I’d know the question I’m trying to answer, or a any of the sounds I play, any of it without you._

For months Thomas at silently and thought of Jimmy’s song as his secret, as his way to see past some of Jimmy’s walls. It’d been a pleasure he took when Jimmy wasn’t speaking with him. When Jimmy hated him because he was going to take what he could. Enjoying Jimmy’s secret talent was enough. Then it became something more. It became moments suspended in time for him and for Jimmy too. He knew Jimmy appreciated Thomas’ ear, that he liked that Thomas loved to hear him play. He showed off and he smiled. He’d blush and turn away if Thomas ever complimented a moment of the song. 

Jimmy’s song. 

Jimmy’s song that Jimmy was telling him existed because of him. 

All the anger he felt dissipated into nothing. It was lifted out and would never descend in that way again. Thomas felt freer and his heart pounded with the idea that he was accepted. He was accepted by Jimmy and it was making him shake. 

Thomas needed to say something, he need to do something. Jimmy just gave him an apology of sorts, Jimmy just told him how deeply their friendship mattered to him. Thomas almost believed in this moment that Jimmy might need him. Probably never as much as he need Jimmy but it was something he never thought he have. He needed to act now, everything was back on him. To make sure the stayed on solid ground. 

He focused and looked at Jimmy, who was staring back at him, soft and hopeful. Thomas nodded slightly and suddenly noticed that Jimmy was shivering. The memory of Jimmy being caught in the rain resurfacing. The knowledge that Jimmy was half-bare, wearing wet pants. His body was wet he been so soaked through. He was freezing and suddenly fixing that was Thomas’ first priority. 

He grabbed the larger towel he brought in and walked up to Jimmy and wrapped him in it. “You’re shivering.” 

“You don’t need an excuse to come in here,” Jimmy said his eyes followed Thomas’ hands as the tighten the towel. And moment Thomas let go, Jimmy grabbed his left hand and held it tightly. “That was all I was trying to say, I fouled it up.”

“Oh…” Thomas stared at their hands, and shook his head as he realize how he misread Jimmy’s shouting. “You did foul that up.”

“Things have been weird.”

“I noticed,” Thomas nodded because it been with this whole time. 

“I don’t want them to be,” Jimmy said. 

Thomas agreed because the strangeness felt dangerous. It wasn’t bad but it could fall into it. He searched for something to say, he wanted a way to tell Jimmy not to worry about. He didn’t want them overthinking it. Maybe there was no easy answer. They just had to talk, they had to make sure not to miscommunicate and they had say the things they were thinking. It was time to share his secret.

“I know…I mean, I know” he stammered, shook himself and took a breath. Feeling oddly afraid about admitting it after so long. “About the song, your song. I have for a long time, now.”

“That makes me happy,” Jimmy breathed with a smile and little shock in his eyes. But then they wanted further. “Wait? Is that why you found Cecilia?”

Thomas looked away because it was a truth but he felt shy about it, he felt like it said too much. But then too much had just crashed around them.

“I wish I were braver,” Jimmy’s voice was low, barely audible.

Thomas shook his head at him. “Your music is brave.”

“I don’t mean my music.” Jimmy was looking away from him and Thomas couldn’t quite place the expression that spread across his features. 

“Jimmy?”

“I want us to be okay? I don’t want awkwardness?”

“There is no awkwardness,” Thomas said wanting to focus on the now. 

“Things been quite and uneasy. I don’t want it to turn into something worse.”  
Relief spread through him. Jimmy felt that danger too, he knew and he wanted what Thomas wanted. “Me too.”

“Any ideas?”

Thomas swallowed because he didn’t but he felt like maybe they saved themselves from it in this moment. He noted Jimmy’s chattering teeth and let go of his hand. Though he hated too but the towel come too loose. He wrapped tighter around him again. “Get out of your wet clothes, take a warm bath and meet me at the piano.” 

The piano was their place after all. 

Jimmy smiled.


	31. Chapter 31

Thomas stepped outside and grimaced at the drizzle. He lit a cigarette and leaned against his spot on the wall. He looked up at the gray sky and sighed at the clouds. It’d been a long day. Jimmy was at his lesson with Cecilia and Alfred had a cold. Molesley been called in to help out but it felt like Thomas’ work load been tripled — he couldn’t let any of the work slack on Jimmy’s days off or Carson would do more than simply complain about his absences every week. He looked toward where Jimmy would appear and hoped to make him materialize. But it was unlikely, he and Cecilia if the past month was any indication would lose track of time. They got along swimmingly from all of Jimmy’s stories about her. Thomas was waiting for Jimmy start speaking about her in terms of courting. It was bound to happen, they were both young and both attractive. They were both musicians and she obviously didn’t bore Jimmy. Being incapable of boring Jimmy Kent Thomas realized was a unique skill. In fact he thought it was his alone before it dawned on him Jimmy never got bored at his lessons and brought up Cecilia more and more in conversation. 

Thomas swallowed and scuffed the dirt below his feet with the toe of his shoe. He was telling himself this to brace himself for the inevitable. He would have to keep his chin up and keep smiling. And hope that she wouldn’t take Jimmy away from him completely. But it seemed set in stone to Thomas. He inhaled smoke on a sigh and looked for Jimmy again. The path was empty — of course. He leaned his head back up to the sky and felt rain drops mist onto his face. 

The door opened and Daisy came outside. They looked at each other for a moment. She gave him a polite smile and went to get coal. Thomas listened to the scrap of the shovel and kept smoking his cigarette. 

“Shouldn't he be home by now?” Daisy startled him.

“What?”

“Jimmy, shouldn’t he be back by now?”

“They go late now and again.”

“Is he courting her?” 

Thomas stared at Daisy, feeling odd at the coincidence of her question and his thoughts. “He hasn’t said so…” he answered coolly. 

“Ivy thinks he is, she’s quite upset, she’s driving me up a wall.” 

Thomas smirked.

“It’s not funny, Thomas.”

He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Sorry, Mr. Barrow.” Daisy started to open the door but stopped and looked at him. “Ivy’s quite upset and I think he should do something about it.”

Thomas stared at her. 

Daisy sighed. “He needs to stop leading Ivy on, Mr. Barrow.”

“Hasn’t he?” Thomas asked because he was quite sure Jimmy pulled back his role in the odd quadrangle he, Ivy, Daisy and Alfred were in. 

“Ivy doesn’t think so,” Daisy said and then with that she walked back inside. 

Thomas shook his head but the truth was he felt for Ivy. Why would she get over Jimmy? He certainly wasn’t… If anything he was falling harder and harder every day. The more time they spent together, the more he got to know Jimmy — truly know him. How often they laughed together and rolled their eyes in unison at the idiots that surround them. His love felt more and more certain. 

_This friendship may be your biggest mistake, Barrow_. 

It was a common thought and he’d taken to rolling his eyes at himself when it crawled across his mind. Because he would never regret Jimmy. Every moment, every second, every laugh and every knowing look that past between them. These were the best days of his life, his golden days and he would hold on tightly to them with all that he is because when they ended he would need the memories to survive.

The door opened again and Ivy stepped out, wiping her hands on her apron and she looked around with big eyes. “Where is he?” she asked finally.

Thomas gave her a look. 

Ivy huffed. “Mr. Barrow, where is he?”

“Hiding him in my pocket I am,” Thomas said. 

“Don’t be a pill,” she said and looked around.

“He comes from that direction,” Thomas said and pointed. 

“Oh, how late is he?”

“Not very,” Thomas lied. He was a good fifteen minutes late. 

“Hummfph….” Ivy straightened up and started walking down the path. 

“What are you doing?” Thomas asked before he could temper down his curiosity and surprise. 

“Meeting him halfway,” Ivy yelled looking over her shoulder. 

Thomas groaned and realized this met Jimmy would be even later and probably pissed off. He looked down at his finished cigarette and sighed. He couldn’t wait any longer, there were still things to be done. Disappointed settled over his shoulders and he pushed back inside. 

Mr. Bates blocked his path. The two of them looked at each other and Thomas glowered at him on instinct. Mr. Bates bothered him, with his self-righteousness and his so called saintly nature. Bates was far from a saint. There was a bruiser about him and Thomas was sure it was the only reason he survived his time in a jail and not his love for his wife. Love couldn’t keep you safe from physical harm. The world wasn’t a storybook. 

“If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Bates,” Thomas sneered. 

“Are you alone, Mr. Barrow.”

Thomas looked behind him at the closed door. “What does it look like?”

“Just thought Jimmy would be back by now.”

“He very well might be but Ivy plots to waylay him.” 

“Does she?”

Thomas nodded. 

“Young love,” Mr. Bates grinned fondly and Thomas felt his stomach churn and wished he wasn’t witnessing the man being soppy over his wife. Why couldn’t the two of them keep it quiet and in their own cottage. It clawed at Thomas and he felt hate for it rush through him. 

“He doesn’t love that dimwitted girl,” Thomas spat out. 

Mr. Bates’ expression lost his Anna glow and turned into something that looked too much like pity for Thomas’ taste. “She’s not the only one looking in the wrong direction.” It came out like a warning.

“I wouldn’t know what you’re on about,” Thomas spat out and roughly pushed past the man, knocking him just a bit off balance. Thomas felt him have tap the floor hard with his cane. With a self-satisfied smirk on his face he walked up the stairs at a fast stride. How dare that man try to pity him and point of the glaringly obvious. Did they think him stupid? Did they think him like Ivy unable to read the signs? He knew, he knew one day all of this would come to end — sooner probably than later. But he did have something Ivy never would. Jimmy’s respect and Jimmy’s friendship. 

~~~

Jimmy frowned when he realized the figure moving toward him on the path to Downton Abbey was Ivy. It was a strange occurrence so his first thought was worry. He picked up his steps and hoped something had gone wrong with running the house when he was gone. Carson was clear if he felt the house wasn't staying up to standards when Jimmy had _His Lessons_ Jimmy wouldn’t be given the option to keep having them. He knew Alfred was sick and he’d almost not gone but when he voiced the thought to Thomas. Thomas given him a look and said “Sod the house.” 

Jimmy grinned at the thought but now he was worried. He couldn’t stop these lessons. He knew enough now to know what he was writing was complicated and it would take him a lot longer to understand how to write it down. 

“Ivy?” he called out as he caught up to where she stopped to wait for him. 

“Hi, Jimmy,” she said and gave him a sweet smile.

Dread filled his chest. “What’re you doing all the way out here?”

“I wanted to talk with you before Mr. Barrow took over all your attention.”

Jimmy frowned a bit at that… was it that obvious how Thomas kept his attention. How he wanted to be near him? How he preferred him over everyone else? “What?”

“I, just… You spend more and more time at this piano’ teachers house. And the maids tell me she is very pretty. And you have things in common. Are, are you courting her?”

He laughed. He bent over and he laughed raucously, his eyes teared up and he couldn’t stop it from bubbling up his throat. Despite seeing Ivy’s widen and her stance become defensive.

“This isn’t funny,” she bit out and Jimmy panicked when he realized there were tears in her eyes.

“Ivy don’t…”

“I really like you Jimmy Kent, and you keep teasing me and flirting with me. I need to know if it’s just a game to you, like Alfred says it is?” she wiped at her face.

“Ivy… it is a game to me,” he said. 

Her eyes widened. “It is?”

“Yeah.”

She wiped at her eyes but then she narrowed them. “Why would you play a game like that?”

“I get bored, our job is boring. It’s the same tedious thing day in and day out. I hate it, Ivy and I get bored. And Alfred gets on my nerves and he likes you,” Jimmy shrugged. 

“But you don’t?”

“I like you fine Ivy but I’m not interested.”

“At all.”

“No.”

“But…”

“What?”

“But you acted like…”

“Again I was bored.”

“Bored?”

“Yes.”

“You think I’m boring?”

“Well…”

She burst out crying. 

Jimmy groaned and realized he was downright bad at this but he couldn’t let her go back like this. Telling everyone he’d made her cry — he had to keep that to Daisy and the maids. She went back now Mrs. Patmore might box his ears. 

“Ivy you just aren’t… the kind of girl I like.”

“What, what is that? Is it her, the piano teacher.”

Laughter bubbled up his throat again. “No, that’s absurd, what’s put that in your mind?”

“Lillie and Colleen both say she’s really pretty and she’s around our age. And she’s teaching you the piano and all…”

“We’re mates is all.”

“You can’t be mates with a girl.”

Jimmy rolled his eyes. “I just said it though didn’t I.”

“But that makes no sense.”

“Fine she’s just my teacher and I’m the student…” somehow that sounded more racy to him than the truth. 

“You aren’t courting her.”

“No.”

“But you don’t want to court me.”

“No, Ivy, I’m sorry…” he tried to sound as sincere as he could. 

She wiped at her eyes. “What is it, what’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing, damn it Ivy, it’s not you okay.”

“But… what do you want?”

 _Thomas_. He almost said it. It came to him so quickly, his mouth nearly opened and spoke it to her. He caught himself, his hand went to his heart because it was beating wildly and he had to try to calm it somehow. He licked his lips and looked around the area. But all he saw was meadow and some trees. There was no help here. Jimmy wasn’t even surprised by the thought but it knocked him on his heels anyway and made him question a million things. 

“Jimmy…”

“Ivy, it won’t matter what I tell you,” he spat out and tried to push Thomas out of his mind. “You aren’t it.”

“But…”

“Okay, you aren’t going to like this but you have to get over me. Forget me. Go out with Alfred, he likes you the way you wish I do.”

“I don’t want Alfred.”

“That’s unsurprising.”

“I want you.”

“It’s not going to happen, I can’t tell you different.” 

She stared at him with her wide eyes and he watched more tears fall down her cheek. He felt like a complete bastard but also utterly frustrated with her at the same time. Suddenly she turned around and stomped off ahead of him. He watched her spattering mud up her skirt and sighed. Mrs. Patmore was going to box his ears. His good mood from a fun lesson was over and his heart was pounding to the beat of Thomas’ name. 

He kept trying to push it away and it would shove itself back in. He took a deep breath though and walked up the path and pushed inside. He walked toward the servants hall just in time to hear Mrs. Patmore yelling. 

“What is wrong with you Ivy! Stop that crying…”

Jimmy sat down at the piano with a grumble.

“Bad lesson?” Mrs. Baxter asked him.

“No, lesson was great.”

“So you enjoy your time with… Miss Griffin is it?”

“Cecilia and yeah.”

“She’s quite pretty.”

Jimmy turned on the piano bench and stared at Mrs. Baxter.

“What is it?”

“I’m not courting her.”

“Not yet?”

“Not at all.”

“Oh.”

Jimmy rolled his eyes and went back to the piano. 

“For cripes sake you aren’t boring, you fool girl!” Mrs. Patmore yelled. 

“Yes, she is,” Thomas said walking into the servants hall. “Jimmy,” he exclaimed in hello.

Jimmy found himself smiling. “Mr. Barrow.”

“Good lesson?”

“It was…” Jimmy sighed.

“Ivy’s plans for you came to fruition I see.”

“I think the problem is that they didn’t.”

“Yes, I’m hearing,” Thomas raised his eyebrows as Mrs. Patmore shouted at the crying girl some more. “I’m not sure Mrs. Patmore’s brand of comfort is helping.”

“You’re right, I better find Mrs. Hughes,” Miss Baxter put down her sewing and stood up. 

Jimmy stared at her surprised he’d forgotten she was there. He looked back at Thomas. “Why does everyone think I’m going to start courting Cecilia?”

Thomas met his eyes for a bit but then turned away. “Makes sense doesn’t it.”

“It does?”

Thomas looked back at him. 

“Cause I don’t think it does.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“Why?” Jimmy sputtered.

“She’s quite smart, she doesn’t bore you and she’s pretty… not to mention the music.” Something about how Thomas spoke made Jimmy uncomfortable. It unsettled him to realize Thomas was thinking about it too — like Ivy had. No, not like Ivy. Thomas should know better. Why would he think that… Thomas was thinking he and Cecilia might become a couple? 

“She is smart, she is pretty and thank God she’s not a bore… but she’s not, she’s not…” He spat it all out quickly. He needed Thomas to know it wasn’t possible. He thought about how he laughed at Ivy when she mentioned it. It was daft to him, him and Cecilia? “She’s not…” he kept sputtering, unable to come with an argument beyond: _She’s not you._ Jimmy took in a slow steadying breathe and met Thomas’s gaze. Then with grave seriousness said, “I’m not going to woo her.”

“You’re not?” Thomas asked and his tone sounded strangled and shocked. 

“No.” He said quickly and firmly. Then he turned back to the piano, he needed the discussion over. For a lot of reasons. “Come on, I want to play you this song she showed me. It’s another Scottish lullaby, it’s a lot like the one mum taught me.” 

“Very pleased to listen, Jimmy,” Thomas said and Jimmy felt him shifting on the piano bench next to him and he grinned. Them at the piano was always something he could handle.


	32. Chapter 32

It started out with their hands. Jimmy ran his thumb over the scar on the back of Thomas hand, over and over. Thomas stared at him the way he does sometimes like Jimmy’s something precious and it makes Jimmy sure he wouldn’t recognize himself in Thomas’ eyes. He shifted underneath the stare and Thomas took his hand out of Jimmy’s grip and pressed it against his cheek. “Let me look…”

Jimmy stared into his eyes and started counting the different colors that all added up to gray. They were numerous and he felt like he was falling and was lost. And Thomas’ lips brushed against his knuckles and he looked down to see Thomas holding his hand. His lips pressing against his knuckles, against his fingers. Soft and red and Jimmy’s throat constricted and his stomach tried to swoop out of his body. 

“Thomas…”

“Let me look,” Thomas whispered into his skin. 

“This isn’t looking,” Jimmy’s heartbeat seemed to be thumping outside of himself rather than inside. “Thomas…”

“Let me look.” Thomas turned over Jimmy’s hand and kissed the center of his palm. 

Jimmy was hot and dizziness waved around him. “I…”

“Let me…” Thomas said and he pulled Jimmy’s hand to his own heart and Jimmy felt it beating in harmony with his own, surrounding them two of them. And he fell back into fathomless gray and Thomas was closer and his mouth pressed against Jimmy’s neck. “Let me look,” he said as he licked up Jimmy’s skin.   
“SIX O’CLOCK.” 

Jimmy shot up ramrod straight in his bed. He was sweating and he was freezing. He was hard and he looked down at his erection and stared at it in horror. His heart was loud as it’d been in the dream and his face started to heat up and he had no clue to define what he was feeling. He couldn’t… He shouldn’t… 

It was fine. It wasn’t even the first one but those had happened before the kiss. Those had been when he first started at Downton Abbey and hadn’t been able to figure out Thomas. When he’d fallen asleep wondering about him and how he looked at him. Confused by his own reactions and chastising himself for them. Thinking he was wrong…. That memory tripped him up. The memory of him thinking he was wrong whenever he felt drawn to a man, or dreams abut a man. That Jimmy felt foreign to him and he hated him. Jimmy hated that piece of himself. He’d worked hard to push it away and it see the truth. There was nothing wrong with Thomas. It wasn’t wrong. 

He wasn’t wrong? Something settled in his stomach and he felt queasy. It was easier to believe it of Thomas. A voice in his head was whispering to him that he was wrong. It was wrong. He wasn’t Thomas. Jimmy frowned and shook his head. What he needed to do was not think about the dream at all. It was something he had practice at. He’d gotten amazingly good at it during the war. He wouldn’t think about it, he wouldn’t let those shadow thoughts bother his day in the least. 

Jimmy ran his hands down his face and got out of bed. He started thinking about O’Brien because willing it away was his only option. It worked a bit too well and he grimaced as he pulled off his sleep pants. He stripped down and grabbed his bowl full of water still from the night before. He quickly washed down and scowled at the smell of sweat. He splashed water on his face and then started fighting with his hair. It always curled the wrong way when he slept and it was turning out to be extra annoying now. “Just got out of bed on the wrong foot,” he muttered. 

Five minutes later there was a harsh knock on the door. “James, you’re late,” Thomas shouted. In his Underbutler voice, harsh and demanding — though less so than it was with anyone else. Jimmy smirked smugly at thought of that he was the favorite but then it turned into a frown. That was probably something he shouldn’t think about today. How Thomas felt about him? The dream flashed in his mind, sharper than it should be — “Yeah, cause you’re trying to forget it.” 

“James!” Thomas shouted because Jimmy forgotten to answer.

Jimmy took a deep breathe and pulled open his door, his bowtie in hand. “Just running a bit late Mr. Barrow, be down in a jiffy.” 

Thomas gave him his Underbutler face. Cold, aloof and calculating but then it shifted into worry and Jimmy wanted to shake him back into being all business. Thomas hand lifted forward and he touched Jimmy’s forehead. Jimmy froze and thought that instead he should’ve jumped backward. 

“You’re warm.”

“I am?”

Thomas clicked his tongue. “You feel sick?”

“Nope?” Jimmy said and his eyes fell onto Thomas’ mouth. Those lips had been on his neck. No, that was a dream. Jimmy closed his eyes. “I’m good.”

“Very well, but if you feel ill at all tell me immediately,” Thomas said sharply but his eyes were still warm. Jimmy felt himself smile shyly back at him. 

“I’m fine, Thomas,” he repeated.

Thomas mouth twitched upward a tiny bit and Jimmy watched eager to see if he gotten a smile out of him but Thomas caught himself and nodded at him sharply. “Hurry it up, I won’t cover for you with Carson.” 

Jimmy laughed because it was a lie.

A few feet away from him Thomas glanced over his shoulder. “I mean it, James.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Barrow,” Jimmy ducked back into his room and instantly he felt fine. It was just a dream and he and Mr. Barrow were perfectly the same in the light of day. No reason to think about an odd dream for longer than it lasted. 

~~~

Jimmy bent down so Edith could take her serving of poached eggs. She took the measly portion she always did and kept on chattering about the magazine she was writing for. As he straightened up he caught sight of Thomas across the table standing still as a statue. A handsome statue, chiseled cheekbones and perfect mouth. That mouth had kissed his hand, the memory of it sharp and clear and his lips were soft. Jimmy panicked. That hadn’t happened that was the dream and he looked away quickly and told himself to get on with his job. But then he walked right into Lady Mary’s chair, with her sitting in it and the eggs flew across the room and landed in his Lordships lap. 

Jimmy immediately apologized to Lady Mary. Who assured him there was no harm done and looked rather like she was ready to start laughing. He stared at the center of the table where his Lordship sat and Carson was busily scooping eggs out of his lap. He jumped when Thomas put his hand on his forehead again, his own palm felt cool against his skin. Thomas was looking him in the eye but more like Dr. Clarkson would than a friend. 

“I’m afraid this is my fault, My Lord,” Thomas said.

“What is that?” Carson snapped.

“I noticed Jim — James, didn’t look quite up to par but let him talk me into ignoring it. I fear he has a bit of a fever.”

“I do?” He said.

Thomas glared at him. 

“I do,” he nodded. “I thought, it was nothing… got a bit dizzy. Again I apologize, Lady Mary.”

“Should we send for Dr. Clarkson?” Edith asked. 

“I think it best Jimmy just have a bit of lie in. If he gets worse we can call him… Don’t you think Mr. Carson?” 

Carson stared at the two of them and Jimmy became aware at how close they were standing and edged an inch away but it wasn’t far enough. He could smell Thomas’ shaving cream on his skin and he was too close to those lips. The memory of them against his neck jumping up at him. It was a dream he reminded himself and kept his gaze on the floor. He hoped it made him look contrite. 

“Mr. Carson?” Thomas asked and Jimmy heard the worry in his tone but no one else would. 

“Very well, get him upstairs and his duties are on you, Thomas,” Carson gave Thomas a pointed look. 

Thomas gave Carson an oily and unhappy smile. It was his fake smile, the one he gave people he hated or he thought weren’t giving him his proper due. It was an usual smile. What happened after it was the important part, Jimmy thought. He had to make a stink, he had to go on about being the Underbutler. But Thomas didn’t open his mouth even try argue his way out of doing Jimmy’s.

“Come on, James,” he said instead and cocked his head for Jimmy to follow him. Jimmy saw the shock on the family’s faces. All of them prepared to hear Thomas complain. But he saw a look of annoyed resignation on Carson’s face and he frowned. He was too obvious, too often and Jimmy was irritated. 

“You should’ve complained,” he muttered once they were out of the others hearing.

“What?”

“About doing my job, it’s not your job, Thomas…”

“Never mind that, you’re perfectly healthy, what’s the issue?”

“What?” Jimmy shook his head. He’d been relieved to hear he was feverish, the dreams were just part of the fever. It made them all the more easy to discount. No matter how vivid they were as they replayed in his mind. 

“I lied, don’t look so taken aback. Though you do looked piqued and that played into it. Did you sleep well?”

“Fine, slept, fine,” Jimmy said and from the look on Thomas’ face he said it too fast.

“Jimmy?”

“Just some… odd dreams is all.”

“Dreams?” Thomas gave him a look.

“They were intense,” Jimmy mumbled. 

They climbed the stairs for a good long minute when Thomas suddenly stopped and turned around. Jimmy nearly walked right into him and he looked up from the step below him. Immediately he was distracted by the angles of Thomas face and his eyes went right to his mouth. 

“Is it… anything you wish to talk about?” Thomas asked. 

“What? NO!” 

A look of hurt flitted across Thomas face and Jimmy felt instantly guilty and he grabbed his left hand to stop him from turning around. Which was a mistake because they he remembered holding it. He remembered holding it and rubbing his thumb over the scar. And it was the dream but he done it for real too… that night and felt so long ago. Jimmy swallowed and wondered why he was having the dream now and not then. 

“Jimmy?” Thomas voice was mixture of irritation and worry. 

“I don’t…”

Thomas tried to pull his hand free but Jimmy tightened his grip and he closed his eyes. He had to think. 

“I just don’t want to talk about them… but if I did you’d be my first choice.” He felt his cheeks heat up as he realized the half-truth of it. If was having bad dreams Thomas would be his confidant. Always. 

“Okay, are you…”

“I’m sure. Thank you for asking…” Jimmy said and realized then how hard the question been for Thomas. He never thought about other people, it was foreign to him, even with all he ways he put Jimmy first. Nice wasn’t something Thomas Barrow did without thought. 

“Anything, Jimmy,” Thomas muttered and turned around. 

Jimmy followed him up the stairs and got confused when he stopped at the lavatory and not his bedroom. “What are doing?”

“I want you take a cool bath, because Mrs. Hughes or Anna is going to come up here and check on you. You’re a bit warm but not warm enough and play up like you feel lightheaded or something….” Thomas was looking at his eyes again and Jimmy met his gaze this time and instantly was taken by how well his dream had matched Thomas’ eyes. He felt dazed.

“Yeah, look like that, you look dizzy… that’s good. How do you do that?”

“Um…” Jimmy shrugged. 

Thomas shook his head. “Give them the charming grin and they’ll buy anything you say…” 

“Mrs. Hughes is harder to fool than that,” Jimmy grinned.

Thomas nodded but he was looking at Jimmy in that way… the way he’d been looking at him in the dream and Jimmy stared right back at him. Thomas stared for a beat and then blinked a few times and ducked down his head. Jimmy followed him down with his eyes though, instead of looking away and pretending he hadn’t known Thomas was staring at him. Their eyes met and Thomas looked shy and Jimmy wasn’t sure what to do with that… 

“Get some rest, you do look tired and might as well.”

Jimmy nodded.

Thomas returned it and when he turned away to go back downstairs Jimmy saw just how hard he’d have force himself not to turn. He closed his eyes, this wasn’t the first time he’d seen any of that behavior. The look was daily, it happened — usually when Jimmy was at the piano and it was easy for him to pretend he hadn’t seen it. He could pretend he was looking at the keys. But he always felt Thomas hovering in his presence, not wanting to move away from it. How he looked at him from across a room or the twitch of his lips when he fought his real smile. 

“He’s in love with you,” Jimmy said to himself out loud alone in the hall.

_What are you?_ a voice in his head whispered and the images of the dream came flooding back.


	33. Chapter 33

“I find myself very concerned by it,” Mr. Carson said.

“I don’t know why?”

“Thomas Barrow does nothing out of the goodness of his heart.” Mr. Carson shook his head. “What is he getting out of it? I do not like it.”

Mrs. Hughes sighed. 

“You disagree?”

“You won’t like what I have to say.”

“I find that doubtful.” 

Mrs. Hughes grinned but shook her head. “I believe all Mr. Barrow wants from Jimmy is continued friendship. And I feel since it is freely given to him by Jimmy and brings out a softer and more kind side of Mr. Barrow there is no reason to be worried or think it might have some unseemly intentions.” 

“Friendship?” Mr. Carson stared at her like she had two heads. “With, Thomas?”

“I told you wouldn’t like it… Let’s not look for problems where there are none.” She nodded. “Now, I’m going to bring some tea up to Jimmy and see if he’s all right.”

“Very well.” She took one last look at him and tried not to chuckle on the furrow between his eyebrows. She made her way to the kitchen just as Mrs. Patmore was finishing the tray of tea with a biscuit.

“Mr. Barrow came in here without a bad word to say about him…” Mrs. Patmore said and shook her head. 

“It isn’t all the shocking now is it,” Mrs. Hughes said.

“It knocks me about, though.”

“Well, I’ll bring Jimmy up his tray, then…” 

“It’s all set.”

Mrs. Hughes picked it up and started up the stairs. But she started frowning more and more with each step. It wasn’t that Mr. Barrow’s behavior when it came to Jimmy Kent was shocking. No, no, she quite accepted that Jimmy was exception when it came to Thomas Barrow. In fact she quite liked what she saw when Thomas was around Jimmy. There was kindness and even a modicum of selflessness present. That was the odd thing about it all — Thomas was a different person around Jimmy. He wasn’t a saint by any means, though neither was Jimmy. The two of them could be quite the snarky pair but the friendship was real. She feared Jimmy would lead him on again, or get bored with him like he did with every else. She worried about a falling out because she feared the glimpses of the kinder Thomas would vanish under that pain. Never to be seen again. 

She feared it more and more as she hoped maybe if Jimmy remained a light in Thomas Barrow’s life that maybe more of his own light would spill out rather than the dark clouds that were usually all around him. Mrs. Hughes couldn’t say she liked Thomas but when Mrs. O’Brien tried to destroy his livelihood she seen a different side of him — a scared little boy. Since then she saw it underneath every bad word and every cold reaction. A small boy who didn’t understand or expect kindness.  
Yet Jimmy gave it to him easily and it was the last thing she expected after the year of awkward and sometimes cruel silence that was between them. She often wondered what broken that spell. What had shifted it? She had her theories about Thomas’ beating at the fair. But she would never know for sure and she felt the profound change between went deeper than one moment. 

Mrs. O’Brien had gotten into Jimmy’s head, the poor boy and twisted him all around. Mr. Carson shared with her that Thomas had said Jimmy would never be so unkind on his own. She believed it, because for all his smugness, ego and snark — he always had a charming smile and wink about him. He was much lighter person than Mr. Barrow. Thomas needed that perhaps, she thought. But she still worried — because one was quite clear. Thomas loved the boy too much for his own good. 

“Well here you are,” she told herself as she reached Jimmy door. She knocked soundly on it. There was no answer. Frowning she balanced the tray and opened the door. Perhaps he was sleeping, she thought, only the room was empty. She put the tray down on his bed and turned around and walked down the hall. The boy better be in lavatory, she thought. And then suddenly the door opened and he was before her in his bathrobe and wet hair. They both startled a bit at his sudden arrival.

“Sorry, Mrs. Hughes, Thomas thought a cool bath might do some good.”

“Well, I supposed he learned a thing or two during the war,” Mrs. Hughes said. “I have left a tray in your room. Best drink your tea when it’s still hot. How are you feeling?”

“Bit light headed but otherwise okay, think I’ll lie down for a bit. Slept badly.”

Mrs. Hughes gave him a long look over, his cheeks did seem pinker than usual and he did seem distracted which very well could be a touch of a cold. “Yes, have a lie in.”

“Will do, Mrs. Hughes,” he smiled. 

“Mr. Barrow is kindly taking on your duties, I do hope you tell him you’re grateful. You know how he hates doing things below his station,” she said and immediately wondered why… Perhaps it was her worry about them. 

“Thom, er, Mr. Barrow knows I’m thankful,” Jimmy said and his cheeks seemed to redden further. “But I’ll make sure he has no reason doubt it.”

Mrs. Hughes watched him. “Okay, off to tea and bed with you.”

Jimmy nodded and headed toward his room. She watched him and wondered for the first time if she was underestimated his feelings for Mr. Barrow. She thought it was just like minds and flattery that kept Jimmy from not becoming bored — yet. But perhaps she was misreading it all together. She frowned some more and started her way downstairs. 

~~~

Jimmy closed the door behind him and cursed his wayward brain. Images of how he could go about making Thomas know how dearly appreciated he was were flying through his mind. Mrs. Hughes would faint dead away if he voiced them and he felt quite lightheaded himself from it all. He wasn’t ill, he was./ 

Randy? 

He shook his head and wished the dream would leave his mind. But it wouldn’t and maybe it was because the dream was understated. It was touch, soft lips and gazes. It wasn’t sexual but deeper than than and it was a warmth under his skin. He was never going to be able to push it away, he realized and he didn’t know what that meant at all. How could he keep up the charade that everything was the same? How would he be able to pretend he wasn’t questioning everything he been told was true and right. 

Told. There that was again and he sighed and wished for uncomplicated brain. Why could he be simple like Alfred? But no his mind was clever and could hold two opposing thoughts. But if he wasn’t clever Thomas wouldn’t be drawn to him and the idea of that was terrible to him. 

~~~

Thomas sighed heavily as he watched Alfred and his piss-poor polishing technique. But he bit his tongue because the last thing he wanted to invite was conversation. Instead he quickly and expertly polished what was in front of him and kept an eye on the clock. He would have to leave Alfred to it alone soon enough to perform a few his actual duties. He sighed with frustration for the third time, this time at the fact he was bloody polishing things when he was an Underbutler. He would do anything for Jimmy but it didn’t mean he had to life it. In fact he quite didn’t like it. At all. 

“What’s wrong, Mr. Barrow?” Alfred asked.

Thomas looked at him but said nothing. 

“I’m sure Jimmy’s quite all right, Mr. Barrow.”

“I’m sure he is as well,” Thomas answered because he was quite sure that Jimmy was physically quite fine. Quite fine indeed — he blushed and ducked his head down, thankful Alfred would be unlikely to notice the flush. Jimmy was fine physically but there was something bothering him. Thomas was curious as to what it was and wished he had pushed harder that morning when he found Jimmy acting rather strange. 

He would ask him later tonight but he wished he could up to the attics now and have a quick conversation. He would have the time if he wasn’t covering for him. But since he was stuck covering for Jimmy it meant that it would be hours before he was able to set his eyes on him again and really ascertain what was wrong. 

What was truly bothersome about it was he had no idea what it could be? Last night they’d had quite a good time as he played some new jazz piece for him that Cecilia taught him. It’d been lively and quite lovely but then Jimmy started to play with the melody and made it all the better. He was so talented and Thomas thought him being a footman was quite the wrong place for him to be. Though that tore at his heart, he wouldn’t want a life without Jimmy in it — but Jimmy deserved the world. He knew he wanted to travel and he knew he wanted have adventures. Thomas frowned and reminded himself to be happy with the now, to enjoy the now — when Jimmy left him he didn’t want to regret their time together. He would strive not to take any second for granted. 

It was a gift and he rarely was presented with them. 

~~~

Jimmy eyes flew open and groaned. His hands went to his face and decided to ignore his erection. Though it wasn’t making it easy because the dream kept happening over and over again. This time Thomas licked his neck and started pressing kisses, on more and more of his skin. His neck, his jaw and his lips. Thomas hovering over him, closer than they’ve ever been but not close enough. Thomas whispering things into his ear he couldn’t hear and their hands clasped tightly together. Jimmy remembered fearing letting go, it was as if he let go of Thomas he’d never get him back. 

“That’s bloody ridiculous,” he mumbled to himself but he lacked conviction. He was afraid of Thomas and afraid of losing Thomas. He was afraid of himself because it was getting more and more difficult to deny the things he’d been burying since he first started noticing girls. Because they weren’t the only ones he was noticing… 

It was easy though to focus on the girls and have his fun. But he never meant one that challenged him. Though she might be out there but now it was too late. He wasn’t interested. He found the one person who could truly challenge, who could look at him and really see him. Thomas saw him, he saw beyond his pretty face and he saw through his ego. He understood the importance of music to Jimmy, he knew it was more than pretty melodies. 

Terrified to lose him and terrified of facing the truth about his feelings — one of them had to win and he wasn’t sure which one it would be — and didn’t that just scared him further.


	34. Chapter 34

Jimmy pulled his bottle of whiskey out from the hiding place under his bed. He popped off the top and took a long generous swig of it. Some of it dribbled down his chin and he tried to chase it with his tongue but failing that he used his hand. He took a long breath or two and took another generous swig of it and sat down on his bed. He was tired of his room, been trapped in it all day all because he couldn’t handle a simple dream. 

He laughed then cringed at the strain that he heard in it. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and he felt like he was at at a breaking point. And he wasn’t ready to be there. He wasn’t ready for this, he wasn’t at all, he was at a fucking fork in the road and he wasn’t ready to be there yet. He was too early, this wasn’t where he was supposed to be…

The knock on his door startled him and he jumped to his feet, hiding the bottle behind his back and opened the door. Thomas stood there and he drew back at bit at the way Jimmy opened the door so abruptly. His eyes narrowed at Jimmy and his nostrils flared in a barely there motion but Jimmy saw it. He saw it because he knew Thomas so bloody well.

“Are you drinking?” Thomas asked his eyebrows raising and his tone irritatingly Carson-like. 

“What if I am?” he said all cheek and winked. 

Thomas rolled his eyes. 

Jimmy showed him the bottle and stepped backward and marveled at how easy it was to pretend he wasn’t falling apart that everything felt like broken glass right under his skin. He grinned when Thomas walked into his room without a visible wince or hesitation. That was how it should be, Jimmy thought. He should always just walk right in… 

His heartbeat leaped upward, jumping into even a faster beat and he stared at Thomas and wondered if he could hear it. “Are you up here early?”

“Managed to find some time,” Thomas said but his look at the clock Jimmy had on his bureau told Jimmy that was a lie. 

“Sneaking it more like… You don’t need to check in on me.”

Thomas took the bottle of whiskey out of his hand and gave him a look.

“I’m bored.”

Thomas gave him a fond smile. 

“Tired of hearing my own thoughts,” he groused and went to grab it back. 

“Jimmy, what is wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said too quickly. 

Thomas frowned. 

“Don’t…” Jimmy sighed. 

“Found a bit of a moment, wanted to get an eye in… like to look out for you.”

“I know,” Jimmy said and his stomach flipped and he thought he wasn’t good enough. At all. As a friend, as a man… “I’m shit.”

“What? No,” Thomas argued sharply.

“Aren’t I though,” Jimmy laughed. “I mean… here I am messing up and you’re covering for me.”

“Badly,” Thomas said and looked at the clock again the expression on his face a war. 

“Go, go, before you get in trouble. Don’t do that for me.” Jimmy grabbed Thomas by his shoulder, he meant to spin him right around and walk him out of the still open door but he froze. He froze the minute his hands touched him. He could feel Thomas’ warmth and he could feel Thomas’ strength and it curled through him in all the right places. And they were so close, nose to nose and his mouth was a sharp edge, his mind whirring behind gray eyes and Jimmy stopped hypnotized. 

“Jimmy?”

The way he said his name, Jimmy closed his eyes. There was always this surprise underscoring it, like he was shocked to have the right to say it. To simply say his name, Jimmy wanted that to stop. It had to stop. But now, now there was a sharp and low warning in it and Jimmy felt more drunk off of that than the few gulps of whiskey that was settling warm in his belly. It was soft too, too soft because Thomas was. Thomas was way too soft on him. 

“I have to leave but we’re talking later and I don’t… Don’t lie to me. Whatever it is I can help you and I won’t… I won’t be mad… I…”

“Couldn’t be,” Jimmy whispered the words in unison with Thomas.

“Yes.” Thomas nodded. 

“Maybe you should,” Jimmy said but Thomas shook his head and looked away. All the edges of his face going soft, his cheeks pink and his lips parting in that way they did when he felt caught or shy. 

“Don’t drink the whole bottle,” Thomas said and then he was gone the door closed behind him. Jimmy stared at it and sighed. What was he going to do or say? What could he do and say? Were there any lies he could use to talk himself out of this, to escape it — escape him. 

Was him, himself or Thomas?

Jimmy took a long gulp of the whiskey and wished the piano wasn’t all the way down stairs. His fingers were itching. Music was the only thing that could rescue him right now. He started humming. He hummed the main melody of his song, letting the notes settle over him, letting the sounds root under his skin and sooth away the jagged pieces. Jimmy put the bottle down on the bureau and made his way over to his bed. He laid down on his back, staring back up at the ceiling and the stupid waters stains. His hands started tapping on his thighs an invisible piano and his humming grew louder and louder. 

He closed his eyes and got lost enough in the music that it almost felt as if he had the piano with him. He could hear it all clearly, feeling the feel of the keys under his fingers as he played the song, the song that would answer the question that was aching to be released by his heart and mind. The song was the answer and it would save him. 

The song was the answer about how he felt about Thomas. 

Jimmy eyes opened wide, his heart threatened to run out of beats and he jumped out of the bed and quickly grabbed at his clothes. He made himself as presentable as he could in the rush he was in. Because his mind wasn’t going to do, humming wasn’t enough, daydreaming about it wasn’t going to help him…. 

He rushed down the stairs. He passed people and they all called his name but he didn’t see any of them. He was too focused and scared. The epiphany echoed in every part of his mind and his heart. But there was only one way to be sure that it was true. He breathed out in relief when he saw the piano, it was the only thing he saw. He rushed to the bench of it, sat down and started playing. 

~~~

Mrs. Hughes looked up from her bookkeeping and frowned. Was that the piano playing? It was dinner service wasn’t it? Mrs. Patmore and Mr. Carson had that in control when she slipped into her sitting room. She stood up just in time for Anna to appear from down the stairs and Miss Baxter to step toward her from the servants hall. Both woman wore identical worried expression and Mrs. Hughes realized her day was about to get interesting — if that was good or bad remained to be seen. 

“Anna first I think,” Mrs. Hughes said simply to the two women as the three of them exchanged uncertain glances. 

“It’s Jimmy, he just flew down the stairs in such a rush, he nearly knocked over Mr. Bates.”

“Is he okay?”

“Mr. Bates, yes, he’s on his way… Jimmy looked half wild.”

The music continued to filter out of the other room and Mrs. Hughes shook her head. “I take it of course that is him,” she said to Miss Baxter.

“He tore right into the room, he hit the table on the way to the piano. Then he started playing.”

Mrs. Hughes took a deep breath. “You two stay behind me,” she said knowing they’d follow her anyway. She walked into the Servants Hall and made her toward the piano. 

The music was beautiful, they were all quite fond of whatever it was Jimmy was playing. Which was a blessing, Mrs. Hughes thought given how often he started and restarted. How often he seemed to get focused on one certain refrain or piece of a melody. He was playing one of her favorite pieces of the song. A soft and clear melody that was sentimental but too much so… it spoke of something known and possible. She often wondered what the whole piece sounded like all together in the right order. Sometimes she wondered if the attempts were because the song was too big for Jimmy. 

“No, no, no…” Jimmy muttered and he started the complicated melody over again, going slower and she heard him humming along with it. That was knew and so was the frantic tone his voice. 

“James?”

“No, no,” he pounded the keys in frustration and the music stopped. 

“James?” she said again believing she had his attention. 

He started playing again, this time a sadder part of the piece and he hummed again and did something completely new. He moved the clear melody around the sadder part — it was all she could think as she heard him play it. He was hugging the sadder melody with the clearer one. 

“Shit,” Jimmy whispered and he started humming again as he played. 

“James,” she said loudly, a scolding and trying to get attention. 

He kept playing and he started it over again, making the transitions smoother and his breath seemed to become more ragged but he kept playing. 

“James,” she yelled it this time but the man didn’t even flinch he was lost in the song. 

“James,” Mr. Bates voice was a boom behind her. She jumped and turned and he gave her an apologetic smile. But Jimmy remained where he was, humming and muttering to himself. 

She stared at him and reached out to touch his shoulder. 

“Thomas,” Jimmy whispered as he started the sadder refrain again. “Thomas….” Mrs. Hughes stopped short of touching him and heard him playing the clearer melody again and thought again how it was comforting the other sounds. He was truly a brilliant player but this wasn’t right, something quite wrong was going on. 

“Me,” Jimmy muttered and he started humming again as he played it again. 

“James?” This time it was both her and Mr. Bates. 

Nothing. 

She stared at Jimmy and then turned to Anna. “Get Mr. Barrow.” 

Anna and Mr. Bates gave her a look.

“Just get him, try not to worry Mr. Carson.”

Anna nodded and left to do as she requested. Mrs. Hughes stepped closer to Jimmy again and thought she may as well try again. He was starting it over again and again it sounded smoother and more beautiful to her ears. She decided to try a different approach.

“You’ve never told us the name of this song, James,” she tried.

He stopped playing and she heard him take in a sharp breath. Then he turned toward her and she found herself looking into his eyes. They were dark blue and the expression in them was awe and confusion. 

“That’s because it didn’t have one,” he whispered at her. 

“Oh?” she said confused. 

He turned back to the piano and started playing again. “James?” she tried but she lost him again and her worry was rising. She was quite confused and this was odd odd behavior. She wasn’t sure at all how she would explain it to Mr. Carson. Jimmy did look flushed, more so than she’d noticed before — when she was almost sure he’d been faking for some reason. But she hadn’t pushed assuming she didn’t want to know. But this… perhaps he was running quite a fever. 

Somehow she heard footsteps over the music and turned to watch Thomas rush into the room. He nearly crashed into Mr. Bates but managed too but he came to a full and complete stop somewhere in between herself and Mr. Bates. His eyes widened as he took in the the piano and he tilted his head to the side, his eyes slid closed as she knew he was listening to the notes. 

Slowly he stepped closer to the piano but for every shift Jimmy made in he music he paused. His eyes widened when heard the humming and Mrs. Hughes felt like she was holding her breath. Finally he reached the piano and reached out and put his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. 

The music jolted to a stop. 

“Jimmy?” Thomas asked.


	35. Chapter 35

The music startled Thomas once he heard it. He’d hurried after Anna, his heart in his throat when she said something was wrong with Jimmy. He raced down the stairs and into the servants hall. All worry and hurry. But then the music slammed into him and he paused. It was new and old all wrapped together. It was a portion of the song Jimmy hadn’t played in a long while and the newer notes he’d been fiddling around with as of late but hadn’t decided on in any fashion. He was deciding, Thomas realized and it was new. This was new and different than anything that come before. So, Thomas paused and he closed his eyes and listened. 

Until Jimmy muttered no, no and started it over. He stepped closer then but the music was still slowing him down. He didn’t want to interrupt him, he never wanted to interrupt him when his fingers were on the keys — his music felt like everything to Thomas. But he felt all the eyes of the others, all their worry and concern over Jimmy’s strange behavior — and it was strange behavior. He’d been odd all day and Thomas wasn’t happy about it and he had plans of getting it out of his friend what was going on. At least with Jimmy at the piano he had a bit more of an idea. It was the song, the song was paramount, the song was Jimmy. He was about to step further when Jimmy started to hum and that startled him. He heard him before, once or twice, but he never hummed while he played and that disconcerted Thomas. He watched Jimmy, the shape of his shoulders and the bend of his head. He seemed… tense which was odd. He was never tense at the piano, it was the extreme opposite usually. 

He heard something behind him, possible Anna and it reminded him why he’d been called down here. It hadn’t been to lose himself in Jimmy’s music, the only way he was ever allowed to lose himself in Jimmy. He took in a hard breathe and walked up to his friend and put his hand on his shoulder. Jimmy stiffened under his touch, the music jolted to harsh stop but then Jimmy relaxed under Thomas hand. 

“Jimmy?

Jimmy turned on the bench seat and then paled considerable. Thomas could feel all the people standing behind them and knew Jimmy had just become aware of his audience. It was obvious he’d completely forgotten himself and his surroundings. “Shit,” he mumbled only loud enough for Thomas to hear. 

Thomas couldn’t stop the fond smile that formed and Jimmy gave him a half-hearted glare for it and turned back around his cheeks a dark pink. Thomas squeezed his shoulder. “Let’s go outside, huh?”

Jimmy nodded and stood up. Thomas watched his eyes land on Mrs. Hughes. He turned to look at her as well and saw the concern in her eyes if not on her face. “James,” she scolded. “Are you quite all right?”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Hughes…” he trailed off after a moment, Thomas watched him struggle to find words and then give up completely his face turned back toward Thomas.

“I’ll calm him down,” Thomas said and it felt lame to him but he hadn’t an idea of what was going on. He couldn’t cover what he didn’t understand. He was worried but he was also frustrated. 

“Do do that, but I want to see you both afterward.” 

Thomas put his hand back on Jimmy’s shoulder and pushed him. Jimmy led the way out of the servants hall and out into the yard. It was drizzling and they both went to their usual spots, where they were just out of the direction of the rain. Jimmy’s face was flushed, it seemed to be permanently that way today, Thomas thought and he was finding it hard to discern why. 

Jimmy bent down, his hands on his thighs and took a few shaky breaths. Thomas watched him for a moment and then he pulled out two cigarettes and within moments he was handing on to Jimmy. Jimmy took and took a longer pull on it than Thomas ever seen him do and then he blew the smoke out his eyes closed. Thomas sighed and tried to figure out how to start the conversation they needed to have — the problem was he wasn’t sure what the conversation they needed to have was. 

“I need to finish it, Thomas,” Jimmy said suddenly and he looked right at him. 

“The song?”

“Yes. I have to finish it.”

“In so much of a hurry you made a mad dash to the piano, forgetting that you’re supposed to be sick?”

“Yes, yes… it’s… I’m all out sorts.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Thomas muttered. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know I made a mess of it, I just forgot about everyone else.”

“Forgot?” 

Jimmy nodded. “I was thinking about…” he stopped with a swallowed gasped. 

“About what?”

“The song.”

“Okay?” Thomas tried to will Jimmy to make more sense. 

 

“I…” Jimmy stepped closer to him. “I told you how it's an answer.”

Thomas nodded, remembering that and he thinks he understood that because it always sounded to him like Jimmy was searching for something important. 

“I know what it’s answering now, Thomas. I know the question.”

“What is it?” Thomas asked.

Jimmy’s face reddened but he didn’t look away from Thomas. His mouth open and closed again, then his eyes fell closed. “I need to answer it first.”

Thomas blew out a lungful of smoke and tried to stay on the calmer side of irritated. “Jimmy.”

“I know, I know.” His eyes flew open and he stepped even closer to Thomas. “But you understand, right? You do, right? How important it is, the song, how very important it is to me…” he reached between them and grabbed Thomas’ gloved hand. 

Jimmy’s heat poured through the fabric, it was against the skin of his fingers. It was scorching and Thomas felt burned. He looked down at their hands and wondered what was happening? What was he doing now? He was making no sense at all today? None. He looked back up and met Jimmy’s gaze, his dark blue eyes looked stormy and intense. Jimmy was looking right at him and pleading with him. But about what?”

“Jimmy?” his voice sounded broken but he was hyperaware of Jimmy’s hand, his fingers, his palm. He looked back down at it. 

“You…” Jimmy breathed out and then suddenly he let go Thomas’ hand and stepped backward. “You do, right?”

What was the question? Thomas kept eye contact with Jimmy and he wasn’t sure if it was easy to do or hard because Jimmy looked so oddly focused and yet unsure in front of him. “I know it’s important, Jimmy. I do, I don’t know why, though and I do know Mrs. Hughes nor Mr. Carson will not care at all.”

“We’ll tell them I have a fever, I feel hot as it is…” Jimmy sighed. “I need to finish it though, Thomas. I need to write down, I need to play it all the way through — it’s the only way I’ll know.”

“The answer?”

“Yes.”

“To the question you finally know?”

“Yes.”

Thomas shook his head. 

“I’m… Thomas, you trust me right?”

Thomas stared at him as if he’d grown a third eye. 

Jimmy grinned and ducked his head down for a moment. “Okay, stupid question.”

Thomas sighed. “I’m just confused about your behavior of late, Jimmy. I can usually read you.”

“I can’t even read myself right now, Thomas. How could you?”

Thomas grinned.

Jimmy finished off his cigarette and leaned against the wall again. “I know the question and I feel stupid for taking so long to figure it out. And there are things — there are so many things in that song I’ve never voiced out loud. And I don’t think I can until it’s finished. I have to finish it Thomas, it’s trying to scratch out of my skin, my fingers are itchy, I want back on the piano.” 

“Well, you can’t… not today, anyway.”

Jimmy sighed in frustration. 

“I can’t pull off a lie to make it happen, Jimmy. No one is going to buy the truth and there is not lie I can come up with.”

“So, no helpful, plots.”

“Sorry.”

Jimmy nodded and started hitting his thighs with his fingers, playing keys no one but him could hear. Thomas watched his hands move and realized he could still feel them against his left hand, even through the fabric of the glove and he felt a bit dizzy about it. Why had he done that? Why had he clasped his hand like that and looked into his eyes so intensely? Why had he let go? He would always let go, Thomas reminded himself. 

“I need to call her.”

“What?” Thomas asked coming out of his daze.

“Cecilia, I need to see her. I need her help I think, writing it down… that new part is complicated, I don’t know how to do it, I don’t how to do it, it’s past my comprehension…” he shook his head.

“It was beautiful, Jimmy, what you were playing. So beautiful, I wouldn’t have expected those two refrains to twine together.”

Jimmy expression softened and he stared right at Thomas. Thomas felt his cheeks start to redden as Jimmy stared at him. Then softly, almost too softly. “Thomas, that shouldn’t surprise you at all.” 

Thomas opened his mouth to ask just what that meant when the door behind them opened. They both turned and saw a wary looking Alfred. “What?” Thomas asked after a beat.

“Mrs. Hughes says you two have had long enough, wants you in her sitting room.”

Thomas sighed and turned back to Jimmy. Jimmy looked scared and Thomas shook his head. “We’ll talk ourselves out of it,” he said. 

“Me. We’re only talking me out of it, you aren’t in trouble.”

Thomas shrugged because it was always them to him. 

~~~

Jimmy couldn’t take his eyes off of Thomas. He kept trying, the only way he could really pull it off was to either close his eyes or look at his shoes. It never lasted long. He kept looking at him and seeing those gray eyes look at him in confusion. Jimmy didn’t like it, he didn’t like the confusion and it was the tip of his tongue to just say something, to tell him the question was about him. The question was about Thomas and him…

He swallowed over a lump and his heart gave a lurch. Not yet, not yet, he was too afraid, he wasn’t completely sure he had the strength for it at all. The song, the song would tell him. It would tell him because he knew it now, the refrains and the melodies. They were them, the two of them, the song was always about Thomas and him. Even when Jimmy fooled himself into hating Thomas the song was always about them. Always from it’s first discordant note to the clear melody that he was working with now, with the saddest part of the piece. 

The Thomas part of the piece… He hadn’t played it yet, he would the first chance he got but he was quite sure the angry bits at the beginning, his rage and denials would match the sadness. He closed his eyes again and let his fingers hit his thighs. They walked into Mrs. Hughes room, but his eyes went toward the servants hall until he was forced to look away. Thomas stood next to him and he moved closer so their shoulders brushed. He needed contact with him, because he wasn’t sure how he could charm his way out of this — but he knew he had to find away. Thomas was lost because he was too confused about what was going and Jimmy wanted to tell him more — but he just couldn’t. 

Not yet. 

“James, are you well?”

“Running a bit hot, I think, Mrs. Hughes,” Jimmy said and he was true, he felt warm and it was uncomfortable. Though he was sure he wasn’t ill, he was just on a precipice and wasn’t sure how to get down to the ground. 

She frowned and walked up to him. Her hand on his forehead. “Well, then so you are.”

Jimmy nodded. 

“You should be in bed and not racing down the stairs, during dinner service, to play the piano?”

“I know. I apologize, I just…”

“He was bitten by the muse, Mrs. Hughes,” Thomas said and Jimmy heard the uncertainty in it, in his plan but he went on. “It’s probably the fever fueling his creative fire.”

Jimmy side eyed him and Thomas gave a subtle shrug. 

“Now, Thomas Barrow, even you don’t believe that story,” Mrs. Hughes sighed. “I’m calling Dr. Clarkson, no arguments, Mr. Carson is going to have to hear this and he might believe a bit of madness due to a fever… But we’ll not put it like that, will we Mr. Barrow.”

“No,” Thomas said with a slight head shake.

“And you will spend the rest of the night in your room. There will no piano playing, especially if you are ill.” 

“Yes, Mrs. Hughes,” Jimmy said. 

“Okay, get him upstairs and report back here. Mr. Carson will down soon enough and he’ll want to know what it was that took you away.”

Thomas nodded at her and Jimmy waited for him to leave the room first and then followed him up the stairs. They walked quietly and Jimmy was thankful. Thomas was the only person he ever felt comfortable being silent around. He always felt like he should be talking, or charming, or playing a game of cards. But with Thomas he could simply be, he was allowed to think and not worry what anyone might think of what he was thinking. 

He cared too much about what other people thought…. Maybe he was starting to care less about that. He looked at Thomas profile and frowned at the serious expression on his face. He nudged him with his shoulder as the reached a landing. Thomas nudged him back and gave him a small smile. 

“Bitten by muse?” Jimmy teased with a grin.

“Truth isn’t…” Thomas shook his head. “I wasn’t coming up with lies and that’s what you looked like… like something that was more than yourself had taken hold.”

Jimmy nodded and realized it was true. “Suppose so… still is.”

“Try to write it down.”

“I don’t have paper up here.”

“I do,” Thomas said, carefully not looking at Jimmy. 

“You do?”

“Yeah.” Thomas took the last steps and opened the door. Jimmy walked by him. “Bought you some awhile ago, never seemed to be the time to give it too. Was going to wait for your birthday.”

“That’s months from now.”

Thomas shrugged and led the way to his room. Jimmy followed him inside and watched him open a drawer and bring out far more paper than Jimmy would ever have use for. He felt something tighten in his chest and he thought about his lessons. He thought about his song and the question. He stared at Thomas and felt speechless and too moved. His face was flaming again and he wondered if emotion was truly giving him a fever? 

“Need a pencil?”

“No, I got that…” Jimmy took the paper, their fingers brushed and Jimmy felt a spark rush up his arm and he didn’t want to pull away. But they did and now he was holding the paper and his breath. 

“Go on, Dr. Clarkson will be here soon enough, lie in until he gets here. Then do what you can…”

“Songs too big,” Jimmy said. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Do the bits you think you can,” Thomas said. “Doesn’t have to be perfect.”

“But it does, Thomas, it does… it’s everything,” Jimmy felt his heart lurch again and he felt suddenly unsteady and reached out grabbed Thomas’ hand without thinking. He realized what he did immediately, his hand in Thomas’ right hand this time — he gripped onto it anyway, even as he thought he should let go, let go now. It wasn’t what he wanted and apparently his mind wasn’t listening to his flight instincts. 

“Jimmy,” Thomas’ voice was low. 

“I’m… afraid,” Jimmy admitted. 

“Of?”

Jimmy closed his eyes and tried to find a word, anything, he could say to Thomas but only one on his tongue was _you_ and it wasn’t true, not really, not truly…. But it was the only answer. 

It was why he had to finish the song, maybe then he could breathe, maybe then he could deal with years of lies and learning to listen to what was his truth. He let out a breath. 

“The truth, I’m afraid of the truth.”


	36. Chapter 36

Jimmy cursed at his reflection and unraveled his tie. It was no use, he couldn’t do it because he was buzzing from the inside out. He was in emotional turmoil and all he wanted to do was sit at the piano. He’d listened to Thomas last night and he written what he could onto the music sheets. He’d written more than he thought he could on the music — but it looked a mess and he wasn’t at all sure he done it correctly. He needed to play it, he needed to play and all he could right now was hum — and his time to do that was running out. There was no getting off duty today, he had to be the perfect footman. 

He checked his hair, perfect. He checked his cufflinks, the lines of his livery. It was all perfect except for his bloody tie. He held it in his hand and swung open his door and walked straight for Thomas’. It was open a bit but Jimmy knocked anyway despite the fact he walked right in. Thomas’ head lifted up but he turn around from where he was in the mirror. He was deftly doing his own tie and Jimmy felt like a fool. 

Thomas was put together perfectly, always so damn perfect, suddenly Jimmy was sure his livery wasn’t at all as well sorted as he thought it was. He closed his eyes and when he opened them Thomas was looking at him — with that confused expression he’d worn all of yesterday. Jimmy hated it and he hated this moment. He was hating this day. 

“I can't get this…” Jimmy pushed the bow tie at Thomas.

“Why, yes Jimmy, I’ll tie it for you. How nice of you to ask.” 

“Shut up,” he muttered. 

Thomas smirked but he stepped closer to Jimmy. He wrapped the fabric around his neck and gave a slight tug. Jimmy felt himself move closer to him and suddenly he was rethinking the whole situation. He shouldn’t be so close to Thomas right now. He smelled of soap, pomade, smoke and something that always made Jimmy think about rain or snow. It was rain now and he heard himself inhale it and his cheeks flamed.

“You’re up for this?” Thomas asked but all his attention was on the tie. 

“I don’t bloody know.”

“Yes, you do,” Thomas’ voice was measured.

“I do?” 

Thomas tugged at the tie and Jimmy felt the familiar tension against his neck. He started to step backward but Thomas was holding onto the lapels. “You are a footman. First footman.”

“Yeah, I know my…”

“Shh…” Thomas clicked his tongue and spun Jimmy around so his back was to him. Jimmy felt his hands run down the back of his jacket. “You are first footman and you will act accordingly.” 

“I am first footman and I will act accordingly?” Jimmy repeated. 

Thomas sighed behind him, his hands on his shoulders pushing and Jimmy turned around again and was facing him. Their eyes met and Jimmy felt his breath just disappear. “Mean it.” 

Jimmy rolled his eyes. 

“Do it,” Thomas barked. 

“Don’t bark at me,” Jimmy snapped. 

Thomas raised an eyebrow at him and Jimmy felt slammed by the fact he was standing in front of the Under Butler. He took a quick breath, happy to find out he could breathe. He forced himself to look at Thomas and get lost, like he kept doing, he forced himself to focus on what they were and who they were. 

“I am first footman and I will act accordingly.” 

“Better.”

Jimmy nodded.

Thomas brushed something else off his shoulder, his face ducked down and Jimmy wanted to see his eyes. He needed to see his eyes and he knew it was stupid and he was supposed to be focusing on keeping all his buzzing emotions under a hat. But he couldn’t do it if Thomas wasn’t with him — he needed more than Under Butler Thomas. 

“You’re good,” Thomas said his voice a bit strained.

Jimmy felt instantly smug. Thomas was there and he caught his gaze when Thomas looked at him. His lips quirked in a smile but then he slammed the expression down and went back into butler mode. Jimmy felt complete envy in that moment because it wasn’t that easy for him. “I…”

“You can and you will.” 

“Yes, Mr. Barrow,” Jimmy said and nodded. “I am first footman and I will act accordingly.” 

“Go on then, James” Thomas said. 

Jimmy nodded and left his room. He felt Thomas walking behind him and in the hallway they were joined by Alfred and Mr. Molesley and the four of them made their way downstairs. Jimmy and Alfred went in one direction while Mr. Molesley and Thomas continued down to the servants hall. 

“You’re better are you?” Alfred asked as they started to gather glasses that been left behind by the Crawley’s the night before. 

“I am,” Jimmy said. _I am first footman and will act accordingly._

“That was a bit daft,” Alfred prodded.

“What was?”

“The thing with the piano. Mr. Carson wasn’t happy.”

“I noticed that when he lectured me last night,” Jimmy wasn’t pleased at all with that lecture. Mr. Carson could never have any understanding about the things he went through or the things he felt. “He enjoyed that moment, I tell you.”

“Brought on yourself.”

“But he loves any opportunity,” Jimmy said and it was true. Carson puffed out more when he found reason to scold Jimmy than when it was Alfred or Mr. Molesley. 

“Back to normal then, I guess.” Alfred said and he misplaced a glass on his tray and it toppled over, the liquid on it spilling over the side. 

Jimmy sighed and reached over and plucked it up before it fell to the floor. He put it on his tray and cocked his head at Alfred. “Well, fix that up. What did you do without me?” 

_I am the first footman and I will act accordingly._ He grinned as he walked away from Alfred and carried on with the rest of his tasks. The ritual and habit of it sinking into his bones. Unfortunately, it changed nothing at all. Usually his mind wandered throughout the day because he was easily bored. His song was always there, always there on his mind as he answered the door, or brought in tea. Or polished the silverware. It was always there and that wasn’t new — but it was louder and he couldn’t avoid the truth it kept telling him. 

The song itself been always been a rhythm of Thomas, Thomas, Thomas, Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy all along. He swallowed and repeated the mantra Thomas had given him when it all floated through his mind. Over and over again. He felt hurried to finish it but a part of him wanted to run from it. So much so that when he heard or saw Thomas coming he found ways to move to avoid their paths crossing. 

It was the song or Thomas. And Jimmy was picking the song at the moment. At least until he knew the end, at least until he heard the full answer to the question he was trying so hard not to name.

But Thomas found him. Later that day, still hours to go, outside smoking a cigarette. Thomas lit his own and leaned agains the wall next to Jimmy, their shoulders touched. And Jimmy inhaled sharply and reminded himself that he could breathe around him. 

“When did you nick that?”

“This morning,” he grinned. 

“Thief.”

“That’s me, I’ll steal anything give me half the chance,” Jimmy glanced over at Thomas.

Thomas cheeks were red and he looked away. Jimmy wanted his gaze. “What brings you out here now? Shouldn’t you be going over dinner with Mrs. Patmore?”

“Been trying to tell you something, but you kept avoiding me,” Thomas eyes were on him now. 

“Oh.” He tapped ash off the cigarette and watched it fall to the ground feeling guilty. 

“I called Cecilia. She’ll be expecting you after your done here for the day.”

Jimmy looked to see Thomas blow smoke out his nose and mouth. He swallowed over a lump that formed in his throat. He felt lost again, he felt lost and flushed. “I… you did that?”

“I did.”

Jimmy nodded and he wanted to ask why, but he knew why. He knew why. “Starting to think that you’re a con artist, Mr. Barrow.”

Thomas gave him a look and Jimmy grinned. “Got them all fooled.”

“How’s that?”

“Think you’re a right arsehole they all do.”

Thomas cheeks reddened again and Jimmy felt triumphant. “I appreciate it.”

“Need to finish it you said, need her you said.”

“I said.”

“Well, then that’s all that’s to it…” Thomas dropped his cigarette. “Both of us back to work, James.”

~~~

Jimmy stood in front of Cecilia’s door. He stood there and looked at the folded papers he had in his hand and felt the urge to turn around and run. He stepped backward and went to run his other hand through his hair, knocking off his hat. He watched it fall into a bit of mud puddle by her door and grimaced. Bending down to get it, he looked between the door and the street. His heart was hammering and he was having trouble remembering how to breathe. How to swallow. He unfolded the music and looked at the messy notes on the page, he hummed what he written and shook his head — it wasn’t at all right. 

It needed to be right. If it wasn’t right he wouldn’t have the answer. 

He stood up and it flashed through him the urge to run, to sprint, to go home and just play the piano and not worry about finding his way to the end. But that wasn’t what he wanted. He’d gone this far, he made his way this far. He had to do this and so he knocked soundly on the door. 

Cecilia opened as she always did, with a bright smile on her face. “Hi. Thomas said you have a music emergency? What is it?”

Jimmy nodded and he walked past her and right up to her piano. Her beautiful piano, he put down his hat and the papers. “I tried to write it, but I think I got it all long.”

She picked up the papers. 

“No,” he shouted and snatched them from her.

Her eyes widened. 

Jimmy inhaled sharply and dug around in his pockets. A cigarette and matchbook brushed his fingers. “Can I smoke?”

“I don’t see why not,” Cecilia said. 

Jimmy sighed in relief and pulled it out. 

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

“Mostly just do it with Thomas… or lately,” Jimmy muttered. 

“I see. Can I look?”

Jimmy looked at the papers he had crumbled up in his hands. He inhaled and held them out to her. Cecilia took them and flattened it out as well as she could and brought them over to lamp for better light. Jimmy felt like a taut rope and he was holding his breath, holding in smoke and he wanted to rush over again and not let her read it. 

He felt naked. 

“Hmmmm mmmmm hmmmm…..”

He cringed. “It’s wrong, it’s all wrong on the page.”

She looked up. “Then play it.”

Jimmy nodded but he didn’t turn toward the piano and he quickly snuffed down the cigarette into nothing but ash. Cecilia appeared with a coaster to put it all on. She was staring at him and he wondered how long he'd been just standing still. 

“I don’t want anyone but him to hear it,” he heard himself say. 

“Thomas?”

“Yes. I only want him to hear it. Only him. All the way through.” 

“I see.”

“But… I can’t finish it without help.”

“Okay.”

“I…”

“Jimmy,” Cecilia put her hand on his shoulders and pushed. He let her guide him to the piano. “Sit.” 

He sat down and her hands left his shoulders and he heard her stepping backwards. 

“I am way back here against the wall. Pretend I’m wallpaper.”

Jimmy laughed but it came out a nervous squeak. 

“Just play when you’re ready.”

Jimmy put his hand son the keys. He took a deep breath. He pretended Thomas was on the bench with him and he started to play the song. At the beginning with it’s angrier refrain and he kept on until he got the end with the two different melodies twining together.


	37. Chapter 37

Jimmy's throat was dry when he finished, his hands were shaking and he was afraid to turn toward where he knew Cecilia was standing. He felt petrified and he wasn't breathing. What was she going to say? Did she hear it? His own heart throbbing exposed in his hands? It was worse than he expected, hearing it all flowing together as it did, for the first time really out loud to his own ears. All of it inside in pieces but he never let himself even play the whole thing in his mind before. 

This was it. Laid bare. 

"Jimmy Kent," Cecilia said and Jimmy wondered if it was the first time. A hand came down onto his shoulder and that told him it wasn't. He turned toward her and she came around and sat down on the bench next to him. He scooted over to give her room and he looked at her. 

"That was…" she breathed out and then shook her head. 

Jimmy kept trying to remember how to breathe. 

"Thank you," Cecilia said turning to face him and her expression was sincerely grateful and Jimmy was confused. 

"For?"

"That… sharing it." 

He stared at her blankly and wished his heart would slow down. 

"You created that?"

"I guess so," he said. 

"When did you start writing it?"

"Um… year and six months ago? I don't really right remember. It was just the first third of the song when I started it and it wasn't more than me angrily banging at the piano."

"It was beautiful, angry yes but…" she stared at him. "You hold relentlessly passionate depths under that charming face don't you?"

He blinked at her. 

"It makes more sense now," she muttered to herself. 

"What does?"

Cecilia stood up and looked toward the other rooms in her house. "Aunt Millie?" she said but only loud enough to carry through one room. Her mouth moved a bit and he thought she might be counting. "Okay…" she sat back down and leaned closer to Jimmy's ear. "Why he's so in love with you."

Jimmy eyes widened but he couldn't deny it, he didn't even want too, his mouth started curving up into a smile before it occurred to him it shouldn't so he turned away from her and tried not to feel it. 

"He knows about the song?" Cecilia sounded like she was asking but when Jimmy turned back to look at her he saw that she wasn't. 

"Of course…. He's just never heard all of it… well not in the right order. I've played every bit of it at some point or another ad nauseum. It's a wonder the staff hasn't gotten tired of me and told me stop."

"It'd be wonder if they did, not the opposite… it's beautiful. Every bit of it." 

Jimmy shook his head. 

"It is… and bloody complicated to write down. But we will, though really you don't need to, Jimmy. It's all inside of you."

"I want it written down. In black and white."

"Okay." She reached up and grabbed paper and pencil. "This is going to take weeks I think." 

He stared at her.

"I feel a bit over my head with that, Jimmy Kent. You're a savant." 

Jimmy blushed and grinned. 

"And so modest." 

"Shut up."

"Okay. Firs things first does it have a title?"

"Yes," Jimmy said quickly and he heard his voice break.

"What?" the pencil was poised to write it.

"Only he's going to know."

Cecilia nodded and a small knowing smile formed on her face and Jimmy wanted to call her out on it but he couldn't. He wasn't ready to hear what she was thinking and he had a feeling she knew it too. 

"That song, I played for you to play the first day you were here."

"Yeah?"

"It's called Lillie." 

"Oh," he stared at her. 

She gave another knowing grin. "Okay, let's get started at this. Black and white, right?"

"Right."

"Okay. Play from the beginning, I'll tell you were I want you to stop. That'll be the section we'll work on tonight." 

Jimmy nodded and started playing. 

~~~

Thomas frowned as he heard the clock strike midnight. It was the third night in a row that Jimmy hadn't made it back before the witching hour. If the people in town were noticing how late he was spending at Miss Griffin's the rumors would be unbearable and Carson might have a heart attack. Thus far the older gentleman had no idea that Jimmy was keep such odd hours because he was showing up on time and doing his job to his best ability. And avoiding Thomas. 

That was the other part that was annoying Thomas. He lit another cigarette and bit back on a yawn. He'd given into to the need to sleep the past few days, because he hadn't been sleeping well at all. Jimmy was in all his thoughts, completely occupying every nook and cranny of his brain. Something was -- well wrong wasn't the right word. Thomas sighed and tried again to pinpoint what the shift had been. 

Jimmy been fine, his normal self, they took breaks to smoke together, they met at the piano. They talked, Jimmy found him during the day to try to make him crack a smile. It was all fine. Perfect. It was the best status quo of Thomas' life. He felt like he could breathe easy because he had Jimmy. He knew Jimmy's secret, he knew about the music, he knew him better than anyone else in teh house. And vice versa -- someone in his house knew Thomas, truly knew him. 

He was known.

But now, he was known but he was being avoided. Not ignored. No, because when Jimmy wasn't avoiding him he was standing too close. When he wasn't walking away from Thomas he was staring right at him. He kept walking into his room in the morning, asking for his tie to be tied. And Thomas used every second of that to touch him as much as he could get away with and just stare at him -- and will him to step holding back. 

Because he was holding something back. There was something in every stare and there was something about everytime Jimmy saw and fled. Fled. He was fleeing. Thomas tensed and fear shot through him that Jimmy was getting tired of him and a part of him told himself that he being anxious, he was allowing fear to roll through him. But he couldn't stop it. Everyone left him in the end. Everyone. All the time. Every time. He got left. 

He closed his eyes and smoked. He smoked to clear his head and he refused to look at the piano and he listned for the door. He couldn't be much later than this, could he? Thomas heard him walking down the hall the night before, he'd almost gotten up to ho to his room -- but what if Jimmy hadn't wanted to see him. He hadn't come out to smoke with that day and Thomas felt unsure. Today, Jimmy stepped out and smoked a few puffs of a cigarette. There was that at least. But he'd kept looking at Thomas as if he wanted to speak but he wouldn't say anything. He wouldn't say anything at all and Thomas missed talking. Thomas quite liked talking. He liked talking to Jimmy to a lot.

It wouldn't be too long now. 

Two cigarettes later Thomas heard the door turn. He stood up immediately and met Jimmy at the base of the stairs. Jimmy's eyes widened at the sight of him and he quickly put the papers he was carrying into his pants pocket. Thomas looked at the pages and decided that was a good as place to start as anywhere else. 

"How is the writing going?"

"Well, I think… she's had to write her own teachers about a few things. She ordered this amazing book on composing. She's going to let me borrow it when she's done."

"How much longer?"

"Longer?"

"Until you finish it?" Thomas realized his voice was sharp.

"While yet, I think…" Jimmy avoided his gaze.  
Thomas wanted to make him look at him but he couldn't. He didn't want to be looked at if Jimmy didn't want too -- but he wanted those eyes on him. He stood to his full height and tapped on the banister. Jimmy glanced up at him and then up some more and seemed to move up on his toes. Which made something break inside of Thomas because he was moving closer. 

"I…" Jimmy said and his voice sounded odd. It was a new tone and one Thomas was getting used too but didn't want too. It was odd and it scared him. Too many things being unsaid and he couldn't fathom any of it. 

"Jimmy," it came out against his will, broken and needy. 

Jimmy grabbed his hand, the one tapping against the banister, covered it with his own and looked it. Looked at their hands. "Soon, Thomas," he whispered and then he was gone walking up the stairs. 

Thomas watched him walk until he was out of sight. He slowly started up the stairs after him. Confused and scared. Angry and not. He wasn't used to his rage being focused on Jimmy Kent. Even the year when Jimmy tried everything he could to push Thomas away from him. Thomas couldn't find it himself to hate him, not when he saw him so clearly. Bright, talented and cocky. Thomas swallowed as his heart ached in his chest even as his fists clenched in anger. There was a wall between them. Jimmy erected it on purpose and Thomas hated it and he wanted to smash it down. He wanted to shake Jimmy and make him talk. 

But it terrified him, what would he say if Thomas made him speak all the things that he kept catching in Jimmy's eyes and the shape of his expressions. What were teh feelings that new odd tone was hiding? They probably weren't good -- or good for Thomas. 

But no. He reached out for his doorknob with his hand, the one Jimmy just covered and whispered too because he couldn't look at Thomas. Or wouldn't -- Thomas sighed in frustration. But there was… intimacy there, and the looks the looks felt heated sometimes. But that was in Thomas' head, that had to be in his head… Jimmy didn't grin slightly when Thomas spent too long knocking imaginary lint off his shoulders? Right? 

How could he be so afraid and futile hopeful at the same time? He walked into his room and angrily got ready for bed, but he knew he would be just staring at the ceiling again for most of the night. Because Jimmy Kent was driving him to utmost frustration in a million and one ways. 

~~~

_Two Days Later_

Jimmy pounded on Thomas door, surprised to see it closed. He held the bowtie in his hand. He pounded again and Alfred stopped short next to him and gave him a weird look. 

"What?"

"He's on his way to America."

Jimmy blinked. "What?"

"Didn't he tell you? Well, you must have gotten back to late. They left around four I think… for the boat." 

"America!"

"With his Lordship. Some emergency with her Ladyship's brother."

"Why the bloody hell is Thomas going!" Jimmy snapped.

Alfred shrugged. "No one knows."

Jimmy stared at the door and his heart plummeted. "He's gone."

"Surprised he didn't tell you."

"I'm not," Jimmy whispered as he realized it. He leaned forward and let his forehead hit Thomas' door. 

"Should get downstairs, we'll have extra duties…" Alfred said and disappeared. 

Jimmy's hand turned the handle on Thomas door and he walked inside. And sure enough most of Thomas' stuff was missing from his bureau and tables. Jimmy walked over to the mirror and started doing his own tie. His fingers feeling clumsy and unpracticed. The truth was for weeks he hadn't even been trying to tie it himself. He needed the moment with Thomas to start his day, them saying a few stupid and witty things to each other. Thomas trying not show too much attraction and Jimmy joining him in that futile attempt. 

He sighed. "It's soon, it's almost done… but you're mad at me." Jimmy shook his head and he knew it. He knew it but he'd been pretending not to know, it made it easier to keep his distance. Because he needed to keep his distance, he was afraid, he was a coward. He was keeping it all at bay even though it was looming over him, closer and closer. He felt it pounding in his chest, his heart screaming at him yet he kept trying to run from it. 

The song was almost written. Truly written. It was pieces of paper, some of it in ink. Almost all of it… Another week, maybe even less Cecilia had said. Jimmy looked in Thomas' mirror and realized with horror that it would be finished before he got back. Anger rose up in his chest and he punched his own face and the mirror splintered under his punch. 

_You never think,_ Thomas's voice chastised him as he looked at his bloody knuckles.


	38. Chapter 38

He regretted it. Immediately. Like so many rash decisions in his life made from anger. Thomas sighed and grabbed at his hat as wind gust threatened its position. He was walking ahead of Lord Grantham toward the ship they’d managed to purchase boarding on at such short notice. He’d sent the house a telegram and Jimmy a separate one, though he worried about what he’d written on the short note. Because he was angry and his instinct was to lash out — but he hadn’t wanted to and he tried to temper it but he was starting to think it may have sounded petulant and aggressive. 

“You seem distracted Barrow, are you quite all right, thought you find this grand adventure?” Lord Grantham’s penetrated his thoughts.

He grinned polite at the man and shook his head. “Quite excited to see America, sir…” he was tempted to ask why Bates wasn’t coming but couldn’t find it in himself to ask. It wouldn’t bring him any joy no matter the answer and he had his suspicions from things he’d over heard — well eavesdropped on purposely over the past week or so. It was good news he supposed, though as usually since it was the Bates something about it made his skin itch uncomfortably. Something else he would never have, he thought but what bothered him the most was Jimmy. He had a secret, a grand one really, but Jimmy been too busy at Cecilia’s night after night, writing the song and avoiding Thomas. 

Getting his Lordship and his luggage settled in this stateroom soon took up Thomas’ time and he quickly did his job as Lord Grantham read a paper and groused about having to leave England. Thomas quite wondered why he was hurrying to America to deal with his brother-in-law’s troubles, his Ladyship’s brother was no child and from what Thomas seen of him, he deserved to face his own consequences. But that was one of the luxuries of money he supposed, not having to face consequences. 

Life free of consequence, Thomas thought. He shook his head and sighed. He’d faced plenty and he still made mistakes. His mind and his heart always fighting, always ready for a fight. He sighed when he realized he and Jimmy felt like they were in a fight. Only they hadn’t fought at all. Just everything seemed to suddenly change. 

He tried pinpoint it again, for the millionth time and he just couldn’t. He didn’t know what happened that flipped Jimmy off his rocker at first and then created the man who was actively avoiding him for 90% of the time and utterly confusing him the other 10% with the odd looks, phrases and tone of voice. Thomas stacked shirts onto a shelf and felt another wave of regret for not saying goodbye and letting his anger get the best of him. 

It would upset it him and Thomas was sure of that despite the avoidance. Despite the lack of late night talks and the complete absence of Jimmy playing the piano in the servants hall. Thomas frowned and brought up the music in his mind but it wasn’t enough and he wanted to hear the — finished product. But Jimmy hadn’t been sharing and wasn’t that just the reason he was so pissed off.

It was his bloody song. It’d been his song for a long time, from back when Jimmy was pretending to hate him — and it was an act, Thomas knew that, and that was why now hurt in a way that time hadn’t. This was cutting him deeper. Last time he had the song because he figured out the secret no one else had, that Jimmy was playing his own notes. Thomas listened to them, finding them beautiful even if they spoke of rage all he heard was their beauty. So much like their creator, Thomas thought and sighed. 

He listened and listened for days, weeks, months, a year. It went from notes to a refrain, to a melody and into a song. Layered and unique and completely Jimmy. But it was Thomas’ song, it was his secret for so long and then it was their secret. They were the only ones who knew Jimmy’s creative bent and Thomas was the only one to fully know his brilliance.

Well he was, Cecilia knew now Thomas was certain and he was jealous. It was his fault. He brought her to Jimmy. He gave her Jimmy and his music. But it’d been selfish, it was because it was his song, their song. Wasn’t it? But he was jealous, envy was burning in his chest. An old but unwelcome friend it was seeping into his bloodstream. Making him angry and petty and all the things that made him hated. 

He was more jealous of Cecilia being gifted with the song than he had been when he feared Jimmy might become smitten with her. In fact there had been a drop of hope in the idea Jimmy would become smitten with her. Thomas liked Cecilia and it would’ve been easier to accept her. Someday he would have to accept Jimmy falling for someone else, a woman and watch them have a life together. He’d hate her, whoever it was but maybe with Cecilia the pain could’ve been tempered. Thomas sighed his mind picturing a future of no Jimmy at all. The recent past of no talks, no music in the servants all, the glimpses of Jimmy turning around when he saw Thomas. The morning ritual with his tie that did nothing to alleviate his fears and only added to his confusion. 

The song was Thomas’. He was the one who discovered it was created. He was the one who listened to it night after night, encouraging without saying anything. Listening and watching and seeing Jimmy’s creativity and passion form into an amazing song. It was his song. His. And hadn’t Jimmy told him he was part of it all, hadn’t Jimmy told him he was the only one he wanted to hear it? Hadn’t he shared that that night when Thomas had felt split open wide and unable to hide just how deeply he wanted Jimmy and how needy it made him feel. Jimmy told him the song had Thomas in it, that it was theirs. Hadn’t he given Thomas that intimacy. It was all he had to cling too and now it was gone. Someone else was sharing in its creation with Jimmy.  
He found himself hours later, the same thoughts rolling over and over again in his mind. He looked out at the water and lit a cigarette. His heart pounding as he felt regret for not saying goodbye but justified in the anger that lead him there. He watched the waves and closed his eyes. Maybe the time apart would better. This way Jimmy didn’t have to avoid him, this way he wouldn’t have to see him walk away. Now he wouldn’t have to try to hold himself together as he tied Jimmy bloody tie. It made things worse because he’d look at him like he had ha million things to say, but he refused to say one word. 

This was better. 

~~~

_I apologize. Continued success with your song. Thomas._

“Well, that’s nice of him,” Alfred said. 

Jimmy quickly shoved the telegram into his pocket and glared at Alfred. Alfred oblivious sat down next to Jimmy and started reaching for bread. Jimmy watched him and looked down at his own plate of food. He wasn’t hungry at all, he should just skip it and head down to Cecilia’s now. 

_Continued success with your song._

What did that mean? Jimmy stabbed a piece of meat with his fork and tried to talk himself into eating. He glanced at Mrs. Hughes, across from him and wondered if she’d allow him to leave early. 

“James, are you quite all right?” Anna asked.

“Fine, in a hurry that’s all. Can I leave, Mrs. Hughes?”

“You may not,” Mr. Carson answered walking into the room and everyone stood up, cutlery clanking and chairs scraping. Jimmy out of habit looked for Thomas to roll his eyes at him. He hated this ridiculous tradition and it didn’t help the last person he wanted to stand up for was Mr. Carson. But there was no Thomas and instead his he ended up rolling his eyes at Anna. Who shook her head slightly at him, he scowled and sat down. 

“It is bad enough you are leaving after we eat to go learn something it seems you already know how to do… but I’ve allowed that habit, you will respect this household and eat your dinner with the rest of us.”

“Yes, Mr. Carson,” Jimmy said in a monotone and stabbed the meat again.

“Really, James, are you all right?” Anna asked again. 

“He’s mad Mr. Barrow didn’t say goodbye,” Alfred said through a mouthful of bread.

Jimmy glared at him. “I’m fine.”

“It happened suddenly, I’m sure he just didn’t want to wake you.”

“Sent an apology he did,” Alfred said. 

“What exactly is it about my business that you think it’s yours,” Jimmy hissed at him. 

“Just saw it is all…”

“Mr. Barrow apologize,” Mr. Bates laughed. “Never see the day.”

That pissed Jimmy off and he pulled the telegram out of his pocket and shoved it across the table in the bastards face. “There you go, you saw the day,” he snapped. 

“James!” Mrs. Hughes scolded.

“It’s the truth ain’t it,” Jimmy muttered, shoving the telegram in his pocket again and sighing.

“What did he mean your song?” Anna asked. 

Jimmy cursed himself, why had he done that? He looked down at his scraped knuckles and blamed Thomas for making his day start all out of sorts. Apology or not it wasn’t enough. It was far from enough. He should have bloody told Jimmy was leaving, it wasn’t like Jimmy was avoiding him completely. He just needed some space, but not an ocean. A bloody ocean. 

“James?”

He realized Anna was still looking at him, they all were and he sighed. “Just whole point of the lessons was to learn how to write down the notes to the song… since _Itismeowncreation._ ” 

Everything went silent and Jimmy felt his cheeks start to heat and his anger was rising. He hadn’t wanted to tell them that at all. Too many people knew now and it was supposed to be theirs. Just theirs but that was just bloody impossible, with the piano in the servants hall and now Thomas added to the insult with his bloody telegram. 

_your song_

“That is your own song?” Mrs. Hughes finally was the one to speak.

“Will be yeah… when it’s finished.” 

“That’s… it’s so beautiful,” Anna said and Jimmy wasn’t sure if he should be offended or complimented. 

“That’s quite a rare gift, I would say,” Miss. Baxter said. 

“It’s nothing….” Jimmy muttered and it was nothing without Thomas around. It was just notes if he wasn’t around and he tapped his foot and realized he wasn’t looking forward to going to Cecilia’s at all now. What was the point of getting to the end of it, getting it all down in black and white and playing it all the way through if Thomas wasn’t going to be there when he finished. 

Jimmy realized the fear was building up to higher heights. He needed it done and Thomas was his anchor, his anchor through every single moment of the song. Even when he’d been angry and kept him at arms length, it was always him listening. Every note, every melody, it was all an answer to the question that started with the name: Thomas Barrow.


	39. Chapter 39

Cecilia frowned and looked at the clock. Jimmy was late and it was unsettling. He was so focused and determined to write down his song. Wanting to make his playing more fluid. He wanted to perfect it and was frustrated at what he conceived to be a slow pace. She had to keep tempering down his impatience and make him take things one step at a time. They were getting there, it wouldn’t be much longer and she had to admit she was in a hurry for it to be black and white on music sheets herself. She wanted to hear him play it again, beginning to end. She knew he would want to practice before playing it for Thomas. And there was the fact he seemed to expecting something to come from the finishing — the true reason for his impatience Cecilia thought.

Which made the fact he was absent from her home, ten minutes after he should’ve arrived very disconcerting. She frowned and put down the book it turned out she hadn’t the focus to read and walked over to her door. She opened it up and peered in to the darkness. No sign of him and she sighed, she knew that looking would prove futile yet she gave into the urge. 

“No lesson tonight?” her aunt asked from behind her. Her tone stating she was quite happy with that fact. 

“He’s just late,” Cecilia said but she frowned. 

“I don’t understand why you’re teaching a grown man who plays as well as you do.”

“He’s better than me.”

“Certainly not.”

“I couldn’t write what he has….” Cecilia shook her head and it was true she was quite jealous Jimmy’s creativity. 

“Are you sure he’s not smitten on you?”

Cecilia sighed.

“Don’t roll your eyes. You’re getting older you know, Cecilia it’s time you thought of these things.”

“No,” Cecilia said and she peered out her door again and released a sigh of relief. Jimmy was walking down the street, though his steps were slow and there was a scowl firmly on his face. She frowned at that and walked out onto the steps to meet him. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

Behind her she heard her aunt scoff. 

Jimmy looked at her but he didn’t answer until he was standing inside. “He’s gone.”

“Thomas?” she asked, though she didn’t know because of course he meant Thomas. 

“He’s in America.”

“How exciting,” she smiled.

“It’s not.” Jimmy frowned at her. 

“You miss him?”

“He didn’t bloody say goodbye,” Jimmy snapped. 

 

"What?"

"It's me own fault… I've been avoiding him." 

"Why?" Cecilia asked.

"Because…. The song," Jimmy sighed and sat down on the bench. "And I screwed up and now everyone at Downton knows it's not some song I'm learning but a song I'm writing."

"What's wrong with that?"

"It's supposed to be ours, just ours… but we have to share it cause everyone has ears." 

Cecilia remembered how he hadn't wanted to play it for her. "Well, they still haven't heard the whole thing."

"No."

"Just makes sure he hears it first."

"You mean after you," Jimmy glared at her. 

"You don't have to play it all together once we finish, for me."

Jimmy expressions softened but then he sighed again and shook his head. "No, I want to have it perfected. It has to be perfect, if it's not I won't know…"

"Know what?"

"The answer."

"To?"

"The question."

Cecilia stared at him. "You've mentioned that before. What is the question?"

"Don't know exactly, need the answer first I think."

"That makes no sense, Jimmy."

"Does anything make sense? I feel like nothing makes sense. Nothing at all. Felt it for a long time now, everything isn't at all how they said it was meant to be. Nothing is in the order, not really, everything is sideways and it's all…" Jimmy trailed off. "Nothing makes sense, but the song and him." 

"Well, let's work on the song."

"But he won't be here."

"What?"

"When it's done, we're going to finish before he gets back. What's the point?"

"Of finishing?"

"Of finishing it without him."

Cecilia shook her head. "We've been doing it without him."

"No, no, I haven't."

"You've been avoiding him."

"Not completely. Makes matters worse but he was… he tied my tie and his voice would break but he'd give me the centering scolding I needed." 

"I do not understand."

"Just told you, nothing makes sense."

"Jimmy," Cecilia stepped closer to him and then sat down on the piano bench, where at some point he'd sat down on, she forced him to look her in the eyes. "We're going to start working on the song. We're going to finish it and you'll practice it daily until he comes back. And he is coming back and he'll want to know you finished it." 

He nodded and the both turned around on the bench. The song was already on the piano and Cecilia fiddled with the papers a bit and pointed to a finished section on the page. "Start from there…"

Jimmy put his fingers on the keys but stayed still for a long beat and then he inhaled and started to play. Cecilia frowned as it lacked his usual passion and unique charisma. He was playing his mood and his current mood didn't fit this section of the song. After a minute or two he stopped playing and looked at her with sad eyes. "See… he left and I can't."

"Is this because he didn't say goodbye? I mean I'm sure he had a reason."

"He's mad at me that's his reason," he pulled out what looked like a crumbled telegram. "See." 

She took it and read it and frowned. "He's apologized and wished you success?"

"Your song," Jimmy hissed. 

"Yes?" Cecilia was quite lost. 

"It's ours and he knows it." 

"Oh," Cecilia frowned and opened her mouth to question Jimmy on his real feelinsg for Thomas because sometimes she was sure he was in love with him and other times she wasn't sure at all. Which confused her and she was starting to wonder if the reason was because Jimmy wasn't sure? But here he was telling her that Thomas was aware Jimmy saw the song as theirs. "He knows you wrote it for…"

"What? No. Didn't write it for him."

Cecilia sighed. 

Jimmy stared at her. "I wrote for me… it's too… but he's in its melodies because he's… I don't know yet." 

Cecilia shook her head. "I think you do."

Jimmy opened his mouth and shut it again. "I wish I did." 

She looked at the telegram again and put it down on the piano. "He is sorry for leaving without a goodbye, right?"

"Of course he is, doesn't change the fact he's mad. I knew without that telegram he was sorry."

"Still…"

"Yeah, yeah, Thomas admitting he's sorry is something you thought you never see."

"Huh, what?"

"Right, you only know the nice side," Jimmy started laughing.

"What's funny?"

"You don't know the Thomas…you only know the piece of him that's in love with me."

"He is that," Cecilia said.

"How did you know?"

"What?"

"That he loves me?"

"When he talks about you his entire countenance changes, he softens, he smiles, he doesn't sound cheeky. Which I've noticed he tends to be, he just… and I guess I know the look cause I've seen it on my own face. He loves you." 

"Daft fool."  
"Is he?"

Jimmy shook his head. "He's brave." 

"Is he?"

Jimmy stared at her for a long time. "You're like him on that aren't you?"

"How do you mean?" 

He turned back to the piano and started playing a sadder part of the song, hitting the keys as he should be, feeling the song and she watched his shoulders release some tension but his jaw remained clenched and she could see in his eyes that he was thinking about something else completely. The music was simple a worrystone in the moment. Cecilia wondered if he even knew he was playing. 

"When did you know?"

"Know?"

"That you're…that sort?" 

"Oh." She blinked. "I just…" no one asked her before, but why would they everyone wanted to ignore it. But she never could and then she fell for her best friend and they ripped her away from her. She frowned missing Lillie suddenly and deeply. She could usually hold that at bay, trying to make the best out of her current position. "Knew." 

Jimmy huffed out bitterly. 

"I miss her and I would go back to her if I had the means. In a heartbeat," Cecilia shared.

"She loves you?" Jimmy said and started repeating another piece of song on the piano. 

"She does but our families."

"Yeah, that." Jimmy sighed. 

"Jimmy?"

"I like girls," he said suddenly and looked at her. "I should like you." 

She frowned. 

"But I don't…." He shook his head. 

Cecilia sighed and looked at the time. "Okay, I'm sending you away."

He looked at her.

"You're useless tonight. But I want you to think about this tonight. You'll have it written and perfected the way you wish when he returns. And he's returning. You think he's mad at you but think about what that means."

"Means?"

"Being mad means he cares, like you're mad at him yourself right now. You're both mad and you both care." 

Jimmy turned back to the piano his expression becoming pensive. 

"I want here on time tomorrow. Now leave." She pointed toward the door. 

Jimmy nodded and got up. He grabbed the telegram. "I… don't know what to say, I feel like I should apologize or say thank you?" he made a face. 

Cecilia laughed and shook her head. "You owe me nothing, Jimmy Kent but to listen to what I have said and come back tomorrow ready to work again. Don't lose focus on this, I know it's terribly important to you."

He nodded and gave her a small smile but it didn't reach his eyes or light up his face teh way she knew it could. He left her house and she found herself watching him walk away. She felt something tug at her heart and she found herself praying Jimmy would figure out he was head over heels in love Thomas sooner rather than later. 

~~~

Jimmy felt exhausted by the time he got back to Downton, but he knew it wasn't about the walk there and back. He knew it wasn't about anything but Thomas and his song. His conversation with Cecilia was making him feel edgy. She seemed to see through him, she had those eyes that saw past words and appearances. Thomas said she was wise, like Sybil Crawley. Jimmy only glimpsed Sybil Crawley a few times and never had occasion to speak with her. His only knowledge as a result was she was beautiful and that Branson was a lucky bastard. But that was what Thomas liked in Cecilia and Jimmy had to admit that maybe it was true. 

She was wise. 

And it unsettled him and he wondered if maybe he should have let her ask it, ask the thing he's been really avoiding. Because he's afraid, because he feels so unsure about everything. It's like he's walking on quicksand. He meant every word he said about nothing making sense. 

That was the thing about Thomas Barrow. From the minute he walked into Jimmy's life he made Jimmy's life not make sense. Except for when it did… and every day there was a moment wher Thomas made everything make perfect sense. It'd be something he say when they were smoking, it was the books that'd been dropped at his doorway when they weren't talking. It was the way he sat on the piano bench and let Jimmy show him how to play simple songs. It was that look he got in his eyes when he looked at JImmy that more and more made it a struggle for him to breathe. 

But it wasn't what the world was meant to be like. It kept echoing in his head and made him feel like the coward he knew himself to be. He ran from the fight, he ran from Thomas until Thomas made it impossible for him not to. There was no going back from that, the minute he made himself walk into Thomas' room after the fair there was no turning back. He said it to himself that day as he stepped across the threshold and gave into the urge to ask Thomas why he was following him.

Why was he following him?  
Why had he left the books.   
Why was he always listening to him play the piano?

_You know why?_

And he did and it was always there and it never bothered him anymore. Everytime he saw it in Thomas' eyes, or heard it in his voice Jimmy smiled. He liked it. It flattered him. It terrified him. He wanted it. He wanted it and he crossed lines he and Thomas had erected because it was supposed to be one-sided. 

For every time he walked away from Thomas in recent weeks, he was also walking into his room and begging for his full attention as he put his tie in Thomas' hand. And it worked and something about that contact made it easier for Jimmy to stay away the rest of the day. And that was what was burning under his skin now and made everything more sideways. 

His world was sideways, even with Thomas in it but when Thomas was within reach at least he knew he could stand on his own two feet. He felt like he was treading water with how much he missed and he was realizing how deeply he needed him. 

He needed him and it was a punch ot his gut and he wasn't sure what to do. What did he do? He walked inot the kitchen and found the teapot. He poured a cup and thought about his mother. _Cup of tea and biscuit and you'll feel right as rain._

"Soppy and stupid," he thought but smiled the memory of her face, though he frowned when he realized her voice wasn't quite right. What he would do to hear her? 

"What're you doing here?" Ivy asked her face stormy. 

"Drinking tea," he answered. 

"Must you always be mean?"

"Not being mean, Ivy."

"You act like I'm stupid." 

Jimmy bit his tongue and thought again that he wasn't being mean. 

"I'm not you know."

"Ivy, is there something you want?"

She stared at him and he felt her crush on him. But it was nothing, it was simple, it wasn't passion and it wasn't heat. He realized she had no idea what it really felt like to have someone get under your skin. To like someone that could make you see red and go completely soft all at once. 

Do you? He thought? 

"I just…" she sighed. 

"I'm sorry," he heard himself say.

"No you're not."

"I'm sorry you think I'm worth this." 

She blinked. 

"You'll meet someone someday, Ivy. You will and he'll… he'll knock your life backward and you'll forget all about me." 

She frowned. 

"You will. You'll see."

She walked out of the room and JImmy didn't blame her for not believing him. He didn't believe a lot of things he told himself lately, there were a lot of lies and half-truths. He walked into the servants hall with his tea and sat down in Thomas' rocking chair. Setting down the tea, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it with Thomas' lighter. The one he nicked off his table after he broke his mirror. He looked at his knuckles and he felt another wave of anger. 

_Your song._

He said it piss him off, because he was pissed off. It worked. Jimmy was pissed off, he was mad but worse he was hurt. Hurt he left without saying anything. Didn't mean much he was sorry, of course he was sorry. And he wasn't sure he could blame Thomas for being mad at him. He knew he was acting strange and daft more than half the time of late. That he was using Thomas to stay strong but running from him every chance he got. But he needed to write the notes down, he needed to read them and he needed to play it all again and again. Thomas knew him, he knew him. He knew Jimmy ran away, he knew Jimmy wasn't as brave as him. Thomas was absolute and Jimmy envied it… And because of it they were in a fight without fighting. 

Oh, it could become a fight. Jimmy could stay mad and get madder. Everyday Thomas was gone. He could do rage, he could build it up and put a wall around himself. He'd one it for a whole year afterall. He could fight with him, he could make it unfair and uncomfortable. The two of them. Rage against rage, pride and all ego, stupid and impulsive. 

Jimmy laughed a bit Thomas' voice chastising him about his impulsiveness, but he could be even worse, usually when he thought with his heart and not his head. 

_We're quite a pair._

Thomas' voice he could hear with clarity. It's cadence, which consonants he stressed and which he didn't. It was a familiar rhythm and one of Jimmy's favorites. He missed him and him threw him because he never knew, he never knew he could miss something he hadn't even lost in the first place. Because Cecilia was right, he was coming back and even in his anger he reached out to apologize. But Jimmy missed him, he missed him like he sometimes missed the piano, even if he'd played it that day. 

Thomas and music. Always intertwined. So, Jimmy got up and sat at the piano, and played _their_ song.


	40. Chapter 40

Jazz music and smoke filled the room, chatter filled his ears as he made his way through tables toward the one empty seat he could see. He wondered what he was doing here, really but it seemed to the thing to do. Go to America and do something illegal. More than one thing, he reminded himself but he seemed to be only intent on the bourbon in the glass the the bartender had handed him — with a knowing smile and a wink. He sat down and saw men looking at him as he scanned the room. He idly noted a few of the more handsome faces but none of them drew him in. He drank half the tumbler of bourbon and sat back in the chair and realized it gave him a straight shot view of the stage. 

The music was tailored made for Jimmy. It was bouncy, fast, it had life in every note and Thomas closed his eyes. It was easy to see him in the Servants Hall playing the song he was listening to now. Thomas swallowed down the rest of his drink and put the glass on the table. He wasn’t in a rush for more, he wasn’t in a rush for anything at all. He wasn’t sure why he was here but he wasn’t going to leave. 

Not yet. 

He tried to shove Jimmy out of his thoughts but it proved impossible. With the exception of the clientele in the place being Thomas’ sort and not Jimmy’s. This place was meant for Jimmy. Thomas glanced at the stage and watched teh dark haired man at the piano and knew he wasn’t playing the music to its potential. He would have to find out the songs, find Jimmy the music — he could read it now. Jimmy would love it and it’d perk up the downstairs up a it as well. Jimmy and his piano saved them all from ennui somedays. Him especially. 

He frowned. How many days has it been since he last heard Jimmy play, it’d been over a week when they left England. Weeks now and it was still all Thomas could think about. Jimmy, the piano, the music. He frowned and got up and walked back to the bar. He put his glass down and the man behind it came up and simply poured the bourbon into it. He started to open his mouth to talk to him, but Thomas shook his head and walked away. Back to the corner he’d found and it’s annoying view of the stage. 

He forced himself to scan the room again. To look at the men who were looking back at him. He was handsome, he knew it and it was one of the few things that always worked in his favor. It was easy to find men, easy to find a release — what was hard was having the chances of finding it. The older he got the less time he seemed to have to get far enough from Downton to risk it. Here he was in America, in a doubly illegal club and he couldn’t bring himself to look closely enough to see if he was attracted to any of the men looking back at him. Because he compared them all to Jimmy… and that meant they were all severely lacking. 

It was unfair of him, he thought, because Jimmy was without a doubt the most beautiful man Thomas ever seen. It blew him away and sometimes he wondered if he was seeing things, because it seemed impossible to him Jimmy was so bright and wonderful. His heart sped up just thinking about him, his features vivid in his mind. The music grew louder, another brash and big song that Thomas knew Jimmy could wind around his finger like he did all music. Jazz was made for Jimmy Kent…. Thomas clenched his jaw and wondered how often his mind was going to repeat itself. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it with a cheap lighter he’d stolen from someone on the boat. He’d left his better one at home and he missed it now because it always lighted on the first try. 

“Here you go,” a male voice intruded on Thomas’ thoughts and suddenly a gold lighter was under his cigarette and it lit up. Inhaling Thomas looked up to see a tall, dark haired man with a mustache. 

“Edward,” he said. 

Thomas almost laughed. Edward. Oh, Edward, he hadn’t thought of him in so long but now he was there. His beautiful face and his dark moods. Thomas fallen for his intensity and the romance of the idea of taking care of him. It’d been young and foolish. Hopeful. But wasn’t he always hopeful when he fell for someone. He’d jump in feet first and eyes closed. He done it with Edward, he done it with Philip. Both of them quick and intense love affairs. One requited and one likely not — Thomas never been quite sure of Edward’s leanings but oh he’d hoped. The thought of the two of them struck him odd, he hadn’t thought of either in years and he wondered if he could forget Jimmy. If Jimmy left his life could he forget him. 

His entire being tensed and screamed no at him, he felt his spine stiffen, he felt a loud scream of no form in his throat. Never. He could never and would never go a day without thinking about Jimmy Kent. 

“And you are?”

This time Thomas did laugh and he shook his head. “Thank you for the light, but I’m not interested.” 

“Oh, come on…” the man grinned all white teeth.

Thomas simple shook his head. 

The man bowed graciously and left. Thomas breathed out smoke on a sigh of relief and found himself closing his eyes and listening to music. Mind wandering to what Jimmy might do with it, how he’d play with the melody, would he change the tempo. Overtime Thomas stopped hearing the music playing and started hearing Jimmy’s song… 

The song. His song. He ached to hear it, truly hear it, he wanted to hear the keys. He wanted to hear the clear refrain wrapping around the sad melody. But he’d only heard that part once, and it’d felt so comfortable and familiar. It made him feel things but he hadn’t gotten a good grasp on what — and thought he would have time. He expected to hear it over and over again. But instead Jimmy ran to Cecilia and returned too late in the night to play the song in the servant’s hall. 

For Thomas. 

He wouldn’t play during his breaks. Instead he either smoked silently next to Thomas — the silence awkward for the first time in nearly a year. Or avoiding Thomas in other ways. Jimmy went far away and stood too close at the same time and Thomas shifted in his seat and realized again a part of him was happy for the break. Because he was angry and confused. He was hurt. More then was his right, he thought, but that wouldn’t stop him. He was hurt. He was hurt by the silence and the lack of music. He was confused by Jimmy walking into his room every morning and then ignoring him for most of the day. The cigarette breaks were few and far between — but they just made Thomas miss Jimmy and the piano more. 

Thomas sighed. He should be used to that though, he thought. Of Jimmy being too far away no matter how close he stood. Because Jimmy was his friend, his mate. Jimmy was in his life but only to a point He could only ever give Thomas so much — _If that’s all._ Nothing but friendship. Thomas clenched his jaw and chastised himself for thinking the song pushed over that line. Because that was his truth. The song was intimacy to him, the song was knowledge he knew something about Jimmy no one else did — and no one else could understand. 

But he was playing it for Cecilia, writing it down with Cecilia. She probably understood it more than Thomas. She understood the sounds, the notes, the melodies in ways that Thomas never would or could. She had a piece of Jimmy he couldn’t get and he wanted all of him. He wanted all of Jimmy and he would never have it. 

“Be happy with what you’ve got…” he muttered to himself. 

As he was making his way back to his seat after getting his fifth glass of bourbon he realized the Jazz was gone and shook his head as he glanced at the stage. It was empty of people, only instruments stood there looking as empty as he felt. He found himself walking up toward it, not really knowing what he was doing. He sat down on the piano bench, just right of center, his body leaving the space that belonged to Jimmy. He put his right hand on the keys and he could feel the weight of Jimmy’s hand over his own. The way it would rest over his hand, fingers pressing down on Thomas’ as he tried to show him how to play his mother’s lullaby. 

Thomas loved the lullaby, he saw it as a gift from Jimmy. His favorite song was personal and private but he’d played for Thomas anyway. He played it for the first time because of Thomas — and he’d thanked Thomas for it. Intimacy, Thomas thought — borrowed and fleeting. He tried to play it but his fingers felt clumsy and he knew immediately he was getting it wrong but that was to be expected. Thomas never really listened to what Jimmy was telling him about the notes, or where to place his fingers, or how much pressure to push down on the key. He never listened to the details because all he cared about was their hands. Jimmy’s hand on his, their skin gliding against each other. The length of Jimmy’s fingers and how they were just a tiny bit shorter than his own. But his palm was wider and Thomas closed his eyes. 

It was so easy to bring it up, he could feel him. He tried to shake himself out of it. He needed to stop thinking about Jimmy. Jimmy was an ocean away. Jimmy was keeping his distance. Jimmy was too close and always so far away. 

Thomas needed to stop. 

“What are you trying to play?” 

Thomas looked toward his left and watched the man sit down next to him. So close their bodies were touching because Thomas wasn’t on the center of the bench. His body heat was warm and that sent a shiver down Thomas’ spine. He was blonde and his expression was amiable. 

“I know most songs,” he offered. 

“I don’t know its name. It’s a Scottish lullaby.”

“You’re from Scotland then?”

Thomas laughed. 

“No, huh? Have only really heard German accents, and I could do with forgetting them.” The man shook his head. 

Thomas nodded in agreement. 

“I’m Harry.”

“Thomas,” he said. 

Harry moved so he was straddling the bench and facing Thomas head on. “Been watching you all night.”

There was something about the bluntness of the words and his accent that had Thomas blushing. He looked at his hand on the piano, poised to play a song he didn’t know… He felt the weight of Jimmy’s hand leave and then his own left the keys. He looked at Harry. He was blonde, but his hair was too light. His smile was attractive but it didn’t seem clever enough. His eyes were hazel and not blue. 

His hand landed on Thomas’ thigh and his body pressed forward. “I think you need a distraction from something, Thomas.” 

Thomas chuckled and wondered why it was he was always so transparent. 

“Let me?” Harry leaned in and brushed his mouth against Thomas’ lips. 

He closed his eyes, he allowed Harry to kiss him and felt a rush of heat pool low in his stomach. It been a long time since he kissed someone new, someone attractive to him, someone who simply wanted him to want him… 

Someone who wanted him. 

He started kissing back and moved on the bench himself, so they were face to face. Harry deepened the kiss, moaning into Thomas mouth. They just kissed for a long while, tiny pauses for breath. It was nice and easy, it wasn’t too much and Thomas brought his hand up to Harry’s face and then to behind his neck. Harry pressed in harder and his tongue licked into Thomas’ mouth and he heard himself moan. Then Harry’s hand slide further up his thigh and Thomas stiffened and pulled his mouth away. He felt his heart in his ears all of sudden and he looked into hazel eyes and it was all wrong. 

It was all wrong. 

“I… can’t….” He stammered and stood up awkwardly and rushed out of the club and into the street. The moon was full and bright over head, it was clear out but his mind was fuzzy. He ran his hands through his hair and realized he left his hat — but he wasn’t going back in there. He started walking at a brisk pace back toward the Levinson’s home. Every beat of his heart hurt because with it he knew it belonged solely to Jimmy Kent.


	41. Chapter 41

Thomas was back at the club, Jazz music playing only it was brighter and it was deeper. He leaned forward and looked toward the stage and it was empty except for the piano and at it sat Jimmy. He was playing with the brashness and confidence that won him the piano competition at the Bright Guard. He was talking to the crowd but Thomas couldn’t understand a word. All he heard was Jimmy’s charm and all he saw was Jimmy’s cheeky grin — flirtatious and dangerous. So dangerous. Lust shuddered down his spine and straight toward his cock and in that same second Jimmy looked right him. 

Things seemed to spin as Thomas got lost in his eyes. They were such a deep and royal blue and behind them was all of Jimmy. The secrets he never shared with anyone but Thomas saw them. He saw the cleverness, he saw the ego and he saw the talent. Jimmy was beautiful like this, from inside his eyes and outward. 

His eyes fell to his hands, fingers on the keys, playing with perfect ease and their shoulders were touching now. Thomas was by his side, on the piano bench and their shoulders to their thighs were touching. Hot points of amazing heat, a solid weight that made Thomas’ lips part and his throat go dry. 

Jimmy took Thomas hand and pressed to the keys, his hand a weight over his, his fingers guiding Thomas’ hand and the notes to the Scottish Lullaby filled the air. “Pay attention now… or you won’t learn it.” 

“I am,” Thomas whispered but his eyes were glued to Jimmy’s profile. 

Jimmy smirked and glanced toward Thomas. Thomas felt his face heat being caught but Jimmy held his stare, even as their hands together played the Scottish lullaby. “You know my face, Thomas.”

“Not well enough,” Thomas whispered and he was sure he never would. There were dimples and indentations. Jimmy’s smiles left behind lines and his eyes would squint and crinkle. Thomas wanted to map it all out and he wanted to know it perfectly. He felt he never would, you couldn’t memorize beauty. 

“Listen,” Jimmy laughed and his fingers increased pressure onto Thomas’ own. Pushing against keys and moving across the keyboard and the music that filled the air wasn’t the lullaby it was the song. “Listen. I can’t play this without you.” 

“It’s…your…

“No. It’s yours, all these notes… yours,” Jimmy whispered.

Sadness filled Thomas. “No, they're… yours.” 

“Thomas, listen…” Jimmy continued to play. “There is no song without you. Meant it, that night. Meant everything I did that night…all of it, I liked it, liked letting you stare.”

Thomas felt afraid. Afraid to breathe, afraid to speak. Afraid to move. But he let Jimmy play the piano, his own hand moving underneath his. The song filled the room, the song filled Thomas’ heart and suddenly they were knee to knee and the music was all around them and Thomas thought for a brief moment he saw notes flying around their heads — but that was impossible. He was afraid. He was afraid the spell would break. 

“You need a distraction,” Jimmy whispered and his hand slid up Thomas’ thigh and his palm felt so hot it nearly burned Thomas’ skin. 

“I…” the heat was pooling low and he was hard. 

“Let me…” Jimmy whispered. 

“Why are you asking?” Thomas laughed. 

“I want to be your distraction.”

“Always are…” Thomas admitted and his heart was in his throat. 

Jimmy grinned and leaned forward into Thomas’ space, his hand sliding further up. “Do you hear it?” he whispered and his lips whispered against Thomas. 

Thomas gasped and moved closer chasing the contact. 

“Do you hear it?” Jimmy whispered again with his lips even closer. It was nearly a kiss. Thomas felt a shiver roll down his spine and warmth settled in his belly, his arousal burned and Jimmy’s hand was closing in. 

“Jimmy.” He was blown apart. 

“Listen,” Jimmy whispered again. 

There were notes floating in the air, the song was wrapping itself around them. Thomas stared right into Jimmy’s eyes. “It’s not possible…”

“Of course it is… you hear it?” The question a soft kiss against his lips.

“I hear it, it’s your…

“No, it’s ours, remember…” There was a palm Thomas’ cheek and he leaned into it and Jimmy pressed his mouth against Thomas’ in a real kiss. He felt Jimmy’s mouth moving against his mouth. It was how he remembered only now there were no hands on his chest pushing him away. Thomas realized his eyes were closed and they flew open. Jimmy’s were closed, Jimmy deepened the kiss and and the hand on his thigh found Thomas’ erection and he palmed it. 

He froze a hand flying to still Jimmy’s, to keep it where it is, to slow it down It was all spinning around so quickly. “Jimmy?” 

“Listen,” Jimmy whispered before kissing him again deeper and darker, his tongue licking inside. “You aren’t seeing us right,” Jimmy’s voice promised. “Listen,” he whispered again, only he couldn’t have because they were kissing and Thomas was leaning back in his chair and Jimmy’s hand was stroking him. 

There was a distant pounding. 

“Listen…” Jimmy’s voice was all around him a part of the song. 

The pounding got louder. 

_”Listen, to your song, Thomas. Ours….” Jimmy’s hand stroked him faster._

_Something pounded._

_“Listen…”_

A voice shouting six o’clock startled Thomas awake and he blinked the song fading away from his mind and he looked down at his own hand palmed against his erection. He closed his eyes and groaned. It was all a dream. 

Always all a dream. 

~~~

 

Jimmy was the last one left in the servants hall, which was how he planned it. He gotten a second cup of tea, sat down in the rocking chair, lit a cigarette and picked up the book he was reading. It was one of Thomas’ books, one he’d already read — during the year he was pretending to hate him. Guilt clawed at him and he thought about all the books he found at his door. He thought about how even then he knew Thomas was the only person in this house he had anything in common with…

“More than….” Jimmy whispered it to himself and froze as he heard the words. He never. A rush of fear made him stiffen at the table and he nearly dropped the cigarette. He took in a sharp breath and tried to fight the fear. But his nerves felt frayed and a voice was telling him to run. Run. Or hide. Or keep avoiding him, keep ignoring Thomas, act like how things were before he left for American were the truth. 

Jimmy laughed. It was panicked and loud and seemed to echo in the empty room. He couldn’t pretend he wanted nothing to do with Thomas. It was impossible. How had he ever done it before? How had he managed to hate him for ever a year. 

_It was to protect yourself._

He was petrified. Still. His heart was hammering and his palms felt sweaty. He inhaled on the cigarette, pulling in his cheek and thinking about Thomas. He grinned a bit as realized that his friend was both his steadying hand and the reason he was panicking on the inside. But wasn’t that Thomas? A contradiction? Prideful, snarky, unyielding, haughty. Kind, patient, forgiving, sweet. A bastard. The vulnerable man who looked at him like Jimmy was his world. 

“Can I…” Jimmy swallowed and finished the cigarette. Hurrying it now, fear kicking in his impatience. He watched the ash form on it and tapped it into the nearby ashtray. But once it was finished he froze up a bit again and he sighed. 

He missed Thomas. He’d been gone for so long now and wasn’t too back for ages. Did he have to do this now? Today? He could put it off longer, couldn’t he? He could go up to his room and go to sleep. Jimmy eyes slid closed and he shook his head, the answer was no. The answer was no. 

He wasn’t going to hide from the song. No. The song was everything. Every note of it was a piece of his soul and blood from his heart. It was more than music, it was the skin and bones of him. But it was more than that, it was Thomas… It Thomas sitting in the servants hall listening to Jimmy play, thinking Jimmy hated him. 

Jimmy known he was listening — he’d never let himself think it, or admit it, but he always knew Thomas wasn’t reading the paper he hid behind. He knew he had Thomas’ full attention whenever he sat down at the piano and played. He’d always known. It pissed him and it pleased him. 

And then everything changed between them and Jimmy couldn’t pretend to hate a man who gotten bruised and bloodied to protect him. And he started asking Thomas to stay. He wanted his audience but more he wanted to share it — share his music. It was all he had to give Thomas. He couldn’t give him what he wanted and Thomas was willing to take what he could get… but Thomas gave him everything, so Jimmy decided to share the little piece of himself that he could…

And it became so much more. Every note that happened reflected them, him or Thomas alone, them together. It all slid together and become fluid. It was a beat of Jimmy’s heart with the exhale of Thomas’ breath. It’d been so easy that night when he turned Thomas on to the point of embarrassed arousal to admit the song wouldn’t exist without him. 

It’d been as easy as breathing to just share his soul with his best mate. To try apologize for something that he had no control over. He couldn’t help Thomas’ arousals, though he tried not too cross any lines, or any of the rules they put in place. But it was too easy because Thomas was in love with him — 

So Jimmy gave him more and more of the song, his music, his soul, his heart.

And stopped completely lying to himself. 

Jimmy laughed. He stood up. It was time to break down the last wall, he thought. He walked up to the piano and reached up to the sheet of music he’d placed on it earlier that day. After he’d spent an hour and half at Cecilia’s. He picked up the stack and flipped through it until he reached the last page. He trailed his fingers over the last half of the page. 

That was today’s work, that was the last notes of the song. That was it’s end. The ink was dry now and it was black as Thomas’ hair. He’d written it. He’d written it all down in his own hand. He could read it all, every complicated refrain and twisted melody. It was his blood and sweat and a lot of fear all on paper… 

It was the question and the answer. 

He stacked the papers together, in the right order, made a neat pile and put it on the table behind him. Then he settled on the bench and put his hands on the keyboard… 

It was time to play it. All the way through. Beginning to end. 

He wished for Thomas suddenly, in the moment. The song belonged to him too and he should be allowed to hear it. But. Jimmy inhaled sharply and he knew the truth. This was his journey, this was his question and his song. Thomas was part of the bones of it, Thomas was the question…

The answer only lived inside of him and he was terrified. Everything in him was screaming no but he closed his eyes. He closed his eyes and he thought about Thomas. He thought about how Thomas appeared out of nowhere that day at the fair. He thought about the way Thomas looked at him and then at the two men. Judging, assessing, deciding. He thought about strong Thomas was as he ripped Jimmy to safety and he thought about the command in his voice as he yelled run. 

“For Thomas…” he breathed and he started playing.


	42. Chapter 42

Jimmy was in his room, in the corner, covered by darkness. And he was in the bed, sound asleep his face seemed pensive in his sleep. He looked at the clock on his nightstand and it was closing in at one in the morning. He could hear it ticking in the night. He heard a noise, a turning of a knob and he looked from the clock to the door. It was Thomas, he stole inside like it was natural and closed the door behind him. 

“Lock it,” Jimmy heard himself say but Thomas didn’t hear him. Instead the door closed silently behind him and he stepped a few paces into the room, closer to the bed. He stood and stared at Jimmy — him — watching him sleep. Jimmy felt his heart start to pound, he knew what was coming, he knew what was next… 

“Thomas don’t…” he breathed out. 

Then he heard it… The starting notes of their song, they filled the room, all angry and confused. Hate-filled and the clang of self-doubt. He watched Thomas bend over his body, with silent intense focus and he stepped forward to get a better view and he watched Thomas’ lips crash down onto his. 

And the anger in the song rose up in the air just as Alfred crashed through the door… 

Jimmy heard himself cry out, a useless cry against the inevitable of the past but he was no longer in the room. He was alone in the servants hall playing with his cards. Bored but too awake. He looked up and Thomas walked in cigarette in his mouth, a book in one hand and tea in the other. They both looked around the empty room. Jimmy frowned and decided he wasn’t moving, he wasn’t giving Thomas the satisfaction of making him uncomfortable.

“But you are…” Jimmy shook his head at himself. 

Thomas pulled out a chair and it’s scrap against the floor felt like it echoed in the silence between them. He sat down and settled his thing, then he started reading. Jimmy watched him from where he stood outside of the moment and realized it was the first book Thomas left at his door… 

His other self got up and sat the piano. He would play. He would just play and get the energy out. He’d meant to play a song, a jazz piece he’d heard his last half-day. But instead he started pounding out the notes of rage that’d been in his head for far too long — the came banging out against the keys and someone how they settled a peace over himself. 

Jimmy stood and watched himself, watched Thomas. Thomas wasn’t reading, he was watching, blatantly listening and as time wore on his expression turned more and more sad. Jimmy watched this and then looked at himself at the piano, back turned to Thomas — 

Until he stopped playing, an hour, more later and turned around. Thomas’s eyes went to the book but the sadness was etched on his face. Jimmy remembered it now. Remembered turning and being punched by the loneliness he thought he saw in Thomas’s profile. 

And the refrain started to fill the room, the sad quiet refrain that built up to a great intensity until it shifted down into something sweeter… But no the sadness was loud, the melancholy in the refrain was etched on Thomas’ cheekbones and the way his eyes were shiny with tears.

“I’m…” Jimmy started to say something but everything turned around and they were under the bridge. They were under the bridge and Thomas was screaming at him to beat it. “Run!” 

Jimmy felt himself run but then he froze, they were punching him so hard, he stared at the violence his heart pounding in his ears. Everything inside of him was screaming at him to run. He looked to the left, back toward the fair and back at Thomas being beaten. 

“This is when you ran…” he thought and it felt bitter in his throat. 

And then regretful melody of the song started to play around him and inside of him. Jimmy closed his eyes, he wanted to only hear the music but he couldn’t drown out the beating. Maybe it was because the beating was the music, it was his regret. His eyes flew open and they were beating Thomas in front of him.

He glanced at the other him and knew was going to run away and he didn’t want to watch that… it rested too heavy on his chest. The notes of his regret clawed heaving down his spine, sending sparks of discomfort throughout all of his body. He stood there and watched Thomas being punched and his cries of pain. 

“What are you waiting for?” his voice asked him. 

Jimmy eyes opened and the other him was staring at him. 

“What?”

“What are you waiting for?” He said again and he glanced at Thomas but quickly looked way. “I’m the coward.” 

Jimmy felt spun and his guilt echoed in all the notes playing around him. 

“I’m the one who runs,” the other him said and then he was gone. 

But Jimmy stayed where he was and the beating went on… The regret was loud and buzzing but wouldn’t drown out the sounds of fists against skin and the crack of ribs. This was his cowardice, this was his greatest flaw, this was the guilt that would forever scar him…

But he wasn’t the man who ran away. No, Thomas had shaped him into a different man with his friendship. With his quiet and steadfast love. He knew himself better now and he could fight this. He could fight them and he rushed forward intent to pull Thomas free of his attackers. 

“James.” A voice yelled.

And Jimmy startled awake and nearly fell off the piano bench, his hands landed on the piano keys making a cacophonous noise that woke him further and it was silent, too silent. Where was the song? He missed it immediately, he felt his heart ache for Thomas. The dream flashed through his mind, the beginning but more importantly the end. 

His dream was telling him what he’d felt last night as he played the song. Over and over again. 

“James, wake up,” Mrs. Hughes said too loudly into his ear and he realized her hand was on his shoulder. He looked and blinked a bit, having to move out of his mind and to quiet his heart. 

“I am, I am…” he shook his head. “I was having the most vivid dream.”

“Were you now? Sleeping on the piano?”

He chuckled and realized he’d fallen asleep while playing the song. Of course he did, he laughed gain. He couldn’t stop playing it and he’d thought one last time. He must have fallen asleep during it and he found himself wondering what part? And instantly his fingers itched it play it. He wanted to play it now and he wanted to play it forever. But that was impossible. He would have to wait and a rush of impatience made him hop off the piano bench. He stepped away the piano and looked at it and saw nothing but temptation. 

“This is not funny, James. Were you up the whole night?”

“Not all of it…no. It’s okay Mrs. Hughes.”

“Will be half dead on your feet all day, I think. Mr. Carson will not be pleased.”

“Does he have to know about this?” Jimmy asked and deployed his woman pleasing grin. 

Mrs. Hughes eyed him and he prayed for it to work. She was a tougher sell than most but he’d gotten her smiling back more than once. 

“If you manage to do your duty, no.”

“Then it’ll be fine then, really,” he grinned a genuine smile. He bent over the table and picked up the music sheets. The song in black and white. Their song. Thomas’ song. He started humming it, since it was his only way to hear it. “I better get up and freshen up.”

“That you better.”

Jimmy flew up the stairs. He felt lighter than he had in days, the song was buzzing in his bones. Everything was different but nothing had really changed. He understood himself better. He had lost patience with the piece of him that caved into fear. It wasn’t going to guide him any longer, it no longer held power. 

Jimmy would have no more secrets from Thomas — maybe he couldn’t shout the truth to the world. But Thomas would know all of him. Every layer and every flaw. He would know his cowardice and his wish to be braver. 

The song was their relationship. The ugly and the good. The song was the beginning and it’s answer rang clearly and beautiful in Jimmy’s mind. Things were now as smooth and clear as glass. 

He pushed open Thomas bedroom door and walked up to his table. He put them down and pulled open drawers until he found a pen. He knew he would, because of course Thomas would have a pen. He opened it up and wrote very carefully, as neatly as he could manage the title of the song on the first page. Underneath it he wrote the words: For T.B. Written by J.K. 

He stared at the title for a long time and couldn’t stop smiling. He heard a hall boy shout something down the hall and sighed. His world was upended yet the day must go on as if hadn’t… 

He put the sheets of music down on the pillow of Thomas’ bed. So it would be there when he returned home. Jimmy wanted Thomas to find it and hopefully he would understand. Hopefully he would forgive Jimmy for taking far too long. 

If only he was returning home sooner. 

He made himself leave Thomas’ room and almost walked right into Alfred. “What are you doing in there?”

“Why wouldn’t I be, he’s my best mate isn’t he?”

“He’s not there.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t return a book,” Jimmy lied easily. 

Alfred tilted his head a bit and stared at Jimmy, confusion marring his features. He looked like he wanted to speak but he wasn’t and Jimmy wasn’t feeling patient. He wanted to get about the day because it would one day closer to Thomas coming home. 

“What you smiling about?” 

“What?”

“You’re grinning,” Alfred accused. 

Jimmy realized he was grinning. Quite wide too and he couldn’t stop it, he couldn’t change it. And why should he, he was happy. He was happier than he been in a long while. “What of it?” he asked Alfred.

“What’s got you so happy?” 

“I came to my bloody senses.”


	43. Chapter 43

Three days and Jimmy’s smile was starting to wane. He was staring at his ceiling, it was early yet but dawn was closing in. He could tell by the light of the moon in his room and the lightening of the sky. He closed his eyes and turned to his side and beat the pillow. He needed sleep but he couldn’t relax because his mind kept going to Thomas and how angry he’d been with him when he left. Jimmy sighed and he felt guilty about his mix signals and confusing behavior but he couldn’t regret it. Not really. It was what he needed to do to get to where he was now. But there were consequences and he knew he hurt Thomas and it was killing him now because he knew he could fix it. But instead they were days, probably weeks apart. The latest news from Lord Grantham had been good but it hadn’t given a date for their return. 

Jimmy got up and walked to his window and looked out over the grounds. All gray shadows and boring lawn. He sighed and realized a lot of his problem was that he was bored. Why was he always so bored? He turned to where he kept Thomas’ books and picked one of them up. But he’d read it four times already and it was good and complicated enough he could read it a fifth but it wasn’t appealing to him too. He glanced at the others and one had been downright boring. He’d fallen asleep three times trying to read it and the other one had been all right but he had no interest in rereading it. 

He turned on his heel and walked down the hall. Careful to be quiet and not hit any of the squeaky part of the floors. He pushed open Thomas’ door and walked into his room. He flicked on the light and walked over where Thomas kept his books. He bent down and looked through the titles. Most of them he’d read and possibly reread. But the last one he hadn’t read yet and it didn’t look familiar at all. He pulled it out and a note fell out of it… 

_Jimmy, I’m not done yet. You’ll have to wait. I couldn’t find room for this in with my luggage. Put it back on the shelf, you aren’t allowed to cheat with mysteries. If you are bored do the crossword puzzle in the papers in my stead._

Jimmy grinned and reread the note again, shaking his head and then he started laughing. Thomas knew him too well and he was sure even just a week ago that would have scared him. Made him slam book shut with the note and pretend that it didn’t matter. But it mattered, it mattered deeply and that was the amazing thing. He finished the song, he realized it was the narration of them and he know all his answers, therefore the fear wasn’t ruling over him now. He ruled the fear and he kept telling it shut up because he knew exactly what he wanted. 

And being Jimmy Kent he was going to get it. 

He read the note again and decided to keep it. He put the book back where he found it and started to head of the room but his eyes landed on the music sheets. He ended up sitting on his bed and looking at them. It wasn’t the first time this week he’d done this — his thoughts kept shifting on the subject of how to present the song to Thomas. Let him find them here? Let him find them and see it for the first time alone? Or should he hand them over to him? And watch him take it all in and see notes written in Jimmy’s hand on the paper?

Jimmy looked at the notes. They were the best gift he’d ever been given. Thomas saw how important music was to him and handed him a way to wield more power over it. He gave Jimmy more music by finding him the lessons. Giving him Cecilia and his quiet support of what most would see as a silly hobby. But it wasn’t silly to Jimmy and it wasn’t a hobby, which of course Thomas understood. 

Jimmy touched the paper and wondered if he could stand in front of Thomas as he took it all in. He wasn’t sure but would waiting be any better? He sighed and almost picked the papers up but he stopped. He might not be able to see Thomas when he arrives, let alone follow him upstairs. He might be able to hand over the song promptly and he wanted — no he needed Thomas to see the song right away. It had to be right away. It was his apology for pushing him away and Thomas would understand that the moment he saw the papers on his bed. 

Jimmy nodded to himself and stood up. He looked down the hall and at the door to his room. He was wide awake and he was bored. He shook his head and made his way downstairs to find the paper and the crossword puzzle. Even an ocean away and he was making sure Jimmy wasn’t bored stiff. 

~~~

Thomas watched the ocean and enjoyed the relief he felt that they were on their way home. He was thrilled when his Lordship announced they could leave and he decided their homecoming should be a surprise. Thomas wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but he couldn’t very well go against his Lordship’s wishes. The truth was he missed Downton Abbey, he missed his room, the servant’s hall and he missed the courtyard where he smoked on almost all of his breaks. It was odd to him to be homesick for the place, but he’d lived the the better part of his life within its walls and in that time it somehow became home. He exhaled smoke in the direction of the sea and his mind fell back into thoughts about Jimmy. Because if he missed Downton Abby he missed Jimmy more. 

He missed simply talking with him. His missed his voice and the weight of his arm against his own. They’d be outside smoking, the smoke wafting around them and Jimmy would complain about Carson or something he read in the paper. Or simply whine about the fact he’s bored and they need to get out of the house and go to the pub. He wanted to play again at the Bright Crown and maybe other places. Jimmy wanted to show off his music. 

Thomas frowned. Would he play the song? Once he had it written down would he play it for other people? This upset him and his mood soured. He wondered if Jimmy finished it yet? Surely he has, Thomas thought. It’d been going on weeks of him traipsing off to Cecilia’s to work on it. It must’ve been nearly finished when he left. So, it was finished by now but what would that mean? 

The song wasn’t merely music, he’d known that the moment he realized Jimmy was composing and he latched himself onto the song from that moment as well. He pretended knowing the truth about the song, being able to figure out that mystery meant he had a connection to Jimmy. It was nebulous and at the time a lie but it gave him something to hold onto and he listened to it night after night. 

But then the fair happened and Jimmy knocked on his door. Then he had a friend — one that referred to him as his best mate and that still knocked Thomas over and made him huff in surprise. Every time. Jimmy started worrying about him and touching him. He looked at his left hand and remembered the night Jimmy decided to massage it for him — and torn him apart inside out. Seduced him right there in the servants hall without meaning too… And it happened more than once and it couldn’t be helped. 

But there was the one time when Jimmy didn’t run from it and told Thomas to look at him. And he wasn’t going to touch Thomas, or kiss him or return the attraction but he walked boldly up him and bared his soul about the song and his music. Thomas thought about that night all the time, over and over, because Jimmy told him the song wouldn’t exist without him — without Thomas and he believed him. He believed it and because of that all his pretending the song linked them because true. 

A fantasy turned true and it was something that made warmth bubble inside of him and he never had much of that in his life. So he kept it and he cherished and suddenly it was gone…

Why? They were so close and everything was good, it was warm and there was a comfort and ritual to their relationship. Their nights at the piano and on the rare occasion that didn’t happen, Jimmy would check in by poking into Thomas’ room. Thomas almost gotten used to him walking in when he was half dressed and Jimmy never seemed fussed about it. 

Suddenly, he remembered Jimmy staring right back at him the night he told him about the song. He’d undone Thomas again with meaning too, undressing right in front of him without a second thought. Yelling at him, sounding mad and confusing him. Thomas wanted to leave but kept blocking the path. Thomas begged him to leave but instead he ordered him to look at him. 

And Thomas looked at him and he’d ached to touch him in that moment. He was golden skinned, lean and confident in his own skin. Every move he made was graceful strength and Thomas been trying to flee. But Jimmy stopped him. He let Thomas look and he looked right back. There was no disgust in his eyes and no discomfort on his features. They stared at each other and Thomas felt naked and exposed but the longer they stood there the more Thomas realized Jimmy was cracked open too, there was something raw in his eyes and then he stepped forward and told Thomas his deepest secret. 

Thomas felt his cheeks heat at the memory, his emotions growing overwhelming again. He remembered all the moments when he fell in love with Jimmy Kent. It was an ongoing action and that night had been the hardest fall. 

_Meant everything I did that night…all of it, I liked it, liked letting you stare._

The words came unbidden in Jimmy’s voice but he knew Jimmy hadn't spoken them, they’d been whispered to him in a dream. A lovely dream and he realized it was why that night was so prominent in his mind. He sighed and touched his lips, he could feel the ghost of the dream kiss — the dream been so vivid and it taken him days to shake it. “Did a poor job on that…”

He sighed and wished Jimmy said those words and he thought about the song and how it felt like a tangible thing in the dream. Each note so clear and perfect. He couldn’t remember it that well now, he was sure he wasn’t getting the notes right in his mind. What did he know about these things? Jimmy must have finished it and played it many times by now. 

Thomas tried not to feel bitter that in the end he would be the last allowed to hear it.


	44. Chapter 44

“Jimmy?” Ivy asked as she walked into the servant’s hall with the teapot. “Why haven’t you played the song?”

“What song?” he asked buttering a piece of toast having not really heard the question. But immediately the room quieted and he looked up and saw everyone staring at him. “What?”

“The song,” Ivy emphasized. “The one you’ve been focused on for over a month now?”

“Been wondering that my own self,” Mrs. Hughes said. “It seemed important to finish it, James. Why haven’t you played it?”

 _Because it’s none of your bloody business. It belongs to Thomas_ was the immediate and honest answer. But he couldn’t say that and he felt instantly uncomfortable in his chair and went back to buttering his toast. Just for something to do until he came up with an excuse. But his mind was blanking out on him and wasn’t that just great. 

“James?” Mrs. Hughes prompted. 

“Can’t.” He shrugged and decided simple was a good tactic. 

“Can’t?” Anna chuckled and gave him a look. “You’re not suddenly shy are you?”

“Please,” he laughed. “That’s not why.”

“Then why not play it for us… we have some time now,” Mr. Bates asked. 

“You want to hear it?” Jimmy asked not believing that for one moment. 

“No, but what Mrs. Bates wants,” he grinned at Anna.

Jimmy focused hard on not rolling his eyes at them. They were sickening at times with the soppy looks and little flirtations. 

“Well, why not play it?” Daisy asked sharply as she walked into the room with more toast. 

“Can’t,” Jimmy said again. 

“Can’t or won’t?” Mr. Molesley asked. 

Jimmy shot him a glare. “I’m not playing it any time soon, and that’s that.” 

Everyone glanced around the table and Jimmy went back to his buttered piece of toast. He wasn’t playing it for them, they shouldn’t even know he wrote it — he was worried about Thomas’ reaction to that but it was his own damn fault. Putting it in the telegram and be a bastard because he was mad. Was he still mad? Jimmy sighed. He probably was Thomas wasn’t the type to cool off over time. He frowned and bit into the toast and made a face. “Ugh, too much butter.” 

“I think you should play it, what’s the use of writing if you don’t,” Ivy said and then she floated out of the room. He scowled after and wished she never opened her mouth about it. People just couldn’t mind their own damn business. He grabbed another piece of toast and started to apply a reasonable amount of butter. 

“Must be a reason,” Alfred said.

“You’re right,” Jimmy grumbled. “There is a reason and you’re not going to hear it.”

“Why not?”

“It’s private okay,” Jimmy slammed the toast down on his plate. “I’m going to just go have a smoke…” he stalked out of the room. He hated living in close quarters. It was his least favorite part of service, he liked to be a showman in public but he valued and needed his privacy and there just was none, none at all. If he could have things how he wanted none of them would’ve been privy the to song’s composure. None of them would have heard a note, but he hadn’t the privacy but he had the drive, the need to compose it — so he did and after awhile he realized he cared about what Thomas thought and that he wanted Thomas to listen. He needed Thomas to listen because he was making it easier to reach the song that was inside of him. 

He lit a cigarette and remembered Thomas was angry with him and it was because of the song. Their song. Jimmy felt rushed to finish it, rushed to get onto paper, in rush to figure out the answers hidden in its notes. And in that rush Thomas got pushed out of the loop. He needed Thomas to be the first to hear it all the way through, he needed Thomas to be his first audience because the song was for him, about him, about himself, about them. It was all wrapped up together and Jimmy understood something now that taken him for too long to learn. Thomas must hear it first because it was what Jimmy wanted but also because Thomas was upset with him over the song. He owed Thomas that apology and he was going to make damn sure he made it. 

The door flew open and Alfred stepped inside. “Come on, Carson is on the warpath because of the Bazaar we have to get up there.”

Jimmy groaned and dropped the cigarette. It was going to be a long day. He followed Alfred and about half up the stairs he glanced at Jimmy. “Why won’t you play it?”

“None of your bloody business.”

“Just a song isn’t it?”

Jimmy stopped offended in aways he couldn’t express and kind of sputtered and then just stared at Alfred. Was he really that dense? He wrote a bloody song, of course it wasn’t just a song. 

“What? I mean it is right?”

“To think like you would probably feel like a vacation, but I’d be bored in about five minutes” Jimmy sniped and started back up the stairs. 

“What does that mean?”

Jimmy groaned and promised himself he would find himself a drink or two during the Bazaar or there was no way he was making it through the day without punching someone. 

~~~

It was a relief to get off the boat. Thomas found he preferred land when all things were considered. Though he liked the water well enough but he wasn’t about to become a sailor. He managed his Lordship’s luggage and his own and soon enough they were both on the train heading toward home. 

He settled in his seat and looked out the window. He was feeling pensive. Which was all he was feeling of late if he was honest with himself. He missed Jimmy. He was angry with him and confused by him — Thomas chuckled. Confused by him, he’d felt that way from the moment he walked into Downton Abbey. Thomas couldn’t forget that first moment if he tried. Walking into the servants hall and wondering what had all the constantly jabbering maids silent. 

He was stunned and he was amazed at the time he spoken as if he wasn’t when Jimmy introduced himself. He felt pulled right toward him and like he knew him. He felt like he knew him and his whole mind was screaming _Oh, this!_ As if he already knew what Jimmy would come to mean to him, Thomas sighed. The first months been confusing and that was with O’Brien out of the equation. He kept wanting to help Jimmy. He wanted to help him get the first footman position, he wanted to help a man who could become his direct competition. It was maddening and he tried to fight it and fight. 

He failed and the need to help Jimmy, protect him, support him it only grew and grew and grew. And now he was back at the song and the hurt stung him again as he remembered how Jimmy snatched it away from him just as it was about to be finished. He should’ve been on the finish line with Jimmy not pushed away from it. Yet, here he was nearly two months gone by without a note of it playing in his ear. He heard it now but he was afraid he was hearing it wrong, that he was misremembering and he was sure he couldn’t conjure up the true notes Jimmy would make the piano play. 

No one played like Jimmy. 

~~~

Jimmy was sneaking a drink of the punch when he heard Carson yelling for him and Alfred. He walked toward the shouts but it was seeing Thomas hopping out of the car that explained why Carson was having a fit. His eyes widened and his feet sped up underneath him and suddenly he was at the back of the car and Thomas looking right at him. Jimmy stepped forward, his hands were reaching out and he caught himself just before he did it — just before he grabbed Thomas’ hands and pulled him closer to him. He felt an intense need to touch Thomas. It itched under his skin and he never felt anything like in all his life. He needed too… he wanted too… 

Thomas was staring right at him and his expression was ever changing. It was happy and then it clouded over — he’s still mad — and then his eyes soften and he looked concerned and Jimmy wondered what his face was revealing. His eyes were still wide and his heart felt like it was on his tongue. Could everyone see it? 

“You’re back!” Alfred’s voice cut through the air between them. 

“Don’t dawdle, James, Alfred, help Mr. Barrow get his things upstairs and then get back to work at the Bazaar…” Carson yelled.

The three of them went to work and Alfred shot out a bunch of questions about America and what it was like and Jimmy knew he was listening to what Thomas was saying because it was amazing to hear his voice again. After so much time it was beautiful to hear his voice again… but he was only hearing sound and cadence, there were no words and Jimmy was going to have to ask Thomas all the same questions again. 

Thomas and he started up the stairs toward his Lordship’s dressing room, Alfred heading in the opposite way to get more of the luggage. Thomas cleared his throat, gaining Jimmy’s focused once Alfred was out of earshot. 

“How have things been here?” 

“Boring and more boring.” 

“Been playing the piano?”

“Not much, no,” Jimmy said carefully and he glanced at him. 

Thomas paused for a half step but then he kept walking. Jimmy followed him a step behind and felt like he was holding his breath. They walked into the dressing room and Thomas started to arrange things how he wanted for unpacking. Jimmy stood by the door, knowing he should be turning around but… 

He looked down the hall and Alfred was not in sight yet but he didn’t have much time. He made the decision and he walked fully into the room and right up to Thomas and into his personal space and leaned forward his mouth near Thomas’ ear. “I missed you,” he whispered. 

~~~

Thomas sensed Jimmy behind him and realized he was standing close but it wasn’t until he felt his chest against his back that confusion settled around him but then he felt breath against his ear. Jimmy’s voice was deep and low as he whispered to Thomas that he missed him. His breath hitched and he had to grip onto his Lordship’s luggage handles afraid if he didn’t his knees would give out. His eyes closed, his pulse quickened and he felt bloody blown apart. 

“Jimmy…” he wasn’t sure if he was whispered or shouted his name and he wasn’t at all sure what he was trying to say with his name. Stop? What are you doing? What? Jimmy please back away? 

“I need you to know that… I missed you,” Jimmy’s voice a whisper in his ear and he was back in that dream for a moment. He gripped the luggage handles to remind himself he was wide awake and this wasn’t what he wished it to be. 

“I…” he turned around and their chests bumped and he looked right into Jimmy eyes and he was staring right at him and he knew immediately he needed to tell Jimmy it was mutual. “I miss…” 

“Jimmy there is loads to bring up yet,” Alfred’s voice announced his arrival and Jimmy took one large step backwards. 

“Sorry mate, just wanted to catch up with Mr Barrow a bit…” Jimmy shot Thomas a smile and then turned on his heel leaving the room. Thomas wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or relieved. His entire body was humming from the proximity, his voice in his ear and the sentiment… 

_I missed you._

“Where should I put these, Mr. Barrow?” Alfred asked intruding on his thoughts and holding up two smaller pieces of luggage.

“The floor, anywhere, just set them down and go get the rest of it,” Thomas snapped. 

Alfred nodded and Thomas heard him muttering a sarcastic. “Welcome home, Mr. Barrow,” as he left the room. 

Thomas turned in a half circle and found he didn’t know what to do with his hands and he forgot what it was he was supposed to be doing. He turned in another half circle and the luggage reminded him. He needed to unpack and organize what needed washing and hemming before he could hand over the Valet position back to Mr. Bates. 

_I missed you._

It still reverberated in his ear.


	45. Chapter 45

Thomas kept touching his ear because he swore he could feel Jimmy’s breath. As if Jimmy trapped his whisper within it. A shiver rolled through Thomas and he closed his eyes and paused for moment on his way up to the servant’s attic. He was aroused and felt overheated. He was shaking and his mind was reeling and scrambling to put that moment in the clear category of friendship. 

Because it wouldn’t. Jimmy walked into him, not up to him, he walked his body right into Thomas and while they may have been barely touching, their bodies were bumping. They’ve never been so close to each other, Thomas could’ve counted the shades of blue in Jimmy’s eyes when he turned to face him. 

How he wanted too… Thomas mentally shook himself but instead of sending the moment out of his mind there was a fluttering in his stomach and he the feeling well. It was hope and that terrified him and he couldn’t allow himself to go there. It would be the death of him, he was quite sure of it, because if he dared to hope he would lose Jimmy completely in end. Because there was no hope to have. 

It couldn’t mean what he wished it meant. But he felt it all happen again the memory haunting him. Thomas licked his lips and started up the stairs again. It was going to haunt him for the rest of the day. This wasn’t an odd experience, however, there were numerous times when Jimmy casually touched him and it sent him spinning for days. Jimmy held a power of him and he knew it. 

He knew it, Thomas thought. Maybe he was simply trying to apologize, he was offering his regrets for tearing the song away from him. That must be it and he chastised himself for nearly making himself hope for more. He ordered himself to not read more into Jimmy’s words and actions. It was an apology and that was all. 

He thought about how Jimmy claimed he wasn’t playing the piano much at all — did he miss Thomas being there? Was it empty without Thomas by the piano? He hoped that was true, he needed it to be true, it was the intimacy Jimmy could give him and Thomas needed it — it’d been a blessing for so long and he’d felt odd and empty without it.

He breathed out in relief when he reached his door and he pushed it open and dropped his suitcase on the foot of his bed. He wanted to bathe but he had no time for that so he grabbed his basin to go fill with water for a bit of a refresher before he went right back to work. It would figure they returned home the day of the Bazaar. 

He got to the threshold of his door with the basin when he saw paper on his pillow. He paused and stepped backward, looking down at it with narrowed eyes and he recognized music. He dropped the basin on the floor, he didn’t even here thump and roll away under his bed. Because now he was sitting on his bed and holding the sheets of paper. 

Jimmy did it he finished it and he wrote it down. Thomas found himself grinning and he flipped through the pages. The written notes meant little to him but he knew Jimmy’s hand, he could see his cursive in the notes and he flipped through the pages. The song took up pages and Thomas felt that was right because it was Jimmy’s song. It couldn’t be simple because Jimmy was a complicated man. 

He flipped back to the first page and stood up. Why wasn’t he here? Why had he left the pages here for him to find alone? He realized quickly, JImmy hadn’t known when Thomas would return to Downton. He left the song in his room for days maybe over a week. He left it there for Thomas to find when he got back home. This was his true apology, this was his true welcome home. The song was in his hands and it was his song too… 

Thomas looked down at the page again and his eyes found Jimmy’s initials. By J. K. He smiled at that and thought about how all the other songs Jimmy may write in the future. Though none will be as cherished as this one and he looked at the notes written on the page and up again to Jimmy’s initials only his eyes fell on his initials instead. 

_For T. B._

His breathe caught in his throat and nearly dropped the pages. For him? He dedicated the song to him? Thomas felt the flutter in his stomach again and he shook his head and tried to close his eyes but he kept reading it, over and over again. 

_For T. B._

Eventually he noticed there was something else scrawled before the dedication and in the place marked ‘title’ on the printed music sheet. He looked at it and everything inside of him shook. He swallowed down and he knew that it was going to haunt him for months, years maybe… 

Because Jimmy entitled the song: Us. 

His door suddenly flew open and Jimmy staggered in and took in Thomas sitting on the bed holding the music. “I changed me mind, I wanted to… wasn’t fast enough to catch you seeing it all for the first time was I?”

Thomas tried to speak but he was feeling too many things and he found himself just staring up at Jimmy. It almost felt like he was seeing him for the first time. He blindingly beautiful and his hair was a mess, he’d tugged at his tie and his livery looked all out of sorts. He was breathing hard and there was sweat on his brow. But he was staring right at Thomas, his eyes wide and like he had down stairs in his Lordship’s dressing room. He moved closer to Thomas and bent down so they were eye level. 

“I wanted to see you see it… I thought I could live without that but when it came to it… and I missed it anyway…” Jimmy breathed out with a sad expression. 

Thomas stared. 

Jimmy shifted in front of him and the moved so he was sitting next to Thomas on his bed. Their legs flush together and shoulders brushing. It was all so close, Thomas felt Jimmy’s body heat and he could smell his sweat. He inhaled it and stared back down on the page. 

“Say something,” Jimmy said with a nervous laugh. 

Thomas turned to face him and the worry he saw in Jimmy’s eyes punched into him and it was that helped him find his ability to form words. “You… for…” or not. 

Jimmy’s mouth formed into a smug grin and Thomas felt the urge to kiss him to make it disappear so he tore his eyes away from him and once again they were on the title. 

“Us,” he managed to breathe out. 

“Seemed right… I meant it when I told you it wouldn’t exist without you. And it wouldn’t be here…” he touched the papers. “Without you either. I wish I could have written it without Cecilia but you know… it was you. You helped me write right. Every step of the way — and I know you think I took it away at the end, but you there Thomas every night I worked on it, you were there.”  
Thomas looked at him again and wished he hadn’t. The sincerity in Jimmy’s expression was amazing and there was something else in his eyes and Thomas found himself closing his own. 

“I’m sorry about everything, about how strange I was being and the avoiding you during the day. I was… Crazed. I was really was Thomas and getting it down, getting Us written down was my only way to sanity. Do you…forgive me?”

Thomas laughed and his eyes opened. He took in Jimmy’s worried face and shook his head. “Jimmy, you know I’ll always forgive you.” 

The smug smile returned but he looked away for a moment before turning back. “I wasn’t sure…. I just needed to hear it.” 

“I forgive you,” Thomas whispered and he looked down at the pages. “I want to hear it.”

“I feel like I’ve been waiting for you forever.” 

“You waited?”

“No one’s heard all the way through but me. Not even Cecilia…” Jimmy frowned. 

“What is it?”

“Everybody else… don’t want them to hear it but.”

Thomas nodded and he felt the same. 

“I should tell you….” Jimmy started but he was interrupted by Mr. Molesley showing up at the door. 

Thomas quickly moved himself further away from Jimmy on the bed and gave Molesley a glare. “What?”

“Mr. Carson wants you both downstairs now…. He’s having quite a fit about everything.”

Thomas sighed. 

Jimmy groaned. 

Molesley nodded at them his job done and he left. 

Thomas sighed and realized he was going to get refresh himself. He glanced around looking for the basin as he stood up. Jimmy watched him from the door and started laughing. “What are you doing?”

“I dropped my basin.”

“Find it later,” Jimmy laughed. 

Thomas turned toward him and grinned. His eyes darted down Jimmy’s livery and his mangled bowtie. “You really are a lost cause without me.”

“Am I?”

“I’m the one off the boat but you’re a mess.” Thomas steeled himself and crossed the short space between them and deftly fixed up his tie and his livery. He let himself run his hand down Jimmy’s chest, patting away an imaginary wrinkle. Jimmy caught him off guard by grabbing his hand and just holding it. He threaded their fingers and held it and tugged Thomas even closer to him. 

“Jimmy?” Thomas thought he was going to fall, he was going to fall deeper in love and he felt utterly confused. 

“I really missed you,” Jimmy breathed. 

“Mr. Barrow, James?” Molesley yelled from down the hall and Jimmy sprang backward and made an odd sound. 

“We’re coming, hold your horses, Mr. Molesley,” Thomas shouted. 

“We better,” Jimmy started down the hall. 

“Wait..” Thomas said his voice barely above a whisper. 

“What?”

“I missed you too.”

Jimmy grinned. 

~~~

Jimmy was on pins and needles. He vibrating with impatient and was short with anyone who spoke with him, with the exception of Thomas. And all he kept saying to Thomas was that he missed him. He couldn’t seem to stop saying it because he felt it in every bone of his body. Jimmy knew he missed him but seeing him again made him realize how big of a hole Thomas’ absence had left behind. 

But every small moment or chance they had to be alone was interrupted. Mostly by Alfred, followed by Mr. Molesley and on one very irritating occasion Carson himself who lectured them both on responsibility for a good five minutes — and he only stopped because Thomas pointed out if he kept yelling he and Jimmy wouldn’t get anything done in the time table allotted. As Carson walked away, Thomas sent him a truly murderous which had sent him into peels of laughter, his hand landed on Thomas’s shoulder and he spoke into his ear again. 

_I missed you._

He felt it with every heartbeat and coupled with his urgent need to touch Thomas, Jimmy wasn’t sure what the hell he was going to do. He wanted to be alone with him. He wanted to kick everyone out of the servants hall and sit at the piano and be alone with Thomas. There was so much he needed to explain and share with him but he couldn’t do it before the he played Us. 

He needed to play Us for him and he hated the others would get to hear it too. Maybe he could ask them to leave, maybe he should ask them all to leave but he knew he couldn’t and he hated it. This was theirs, his and Thomas’ and it was important. It was so important, it was the rest of Jimmy’s life. The song was the first step to him changing his life and changing Thomas’ life. It was about them and it would be better and more perfect if they could be alone. 

Blissfully alone because then Jimmy could touch him. Thomas walked in front of him and gave him an odd look because he wasn’t working. Jimmy felt caught up in his eyes though and their perfect shade of gray. He stepped forward and reached out but Thomas shook his head slightly and moved backward. Jimmy realized he was doing it again and he wished he could go off and smoke a cigarette and calm himself down. 

“We’re almost done, here. Mrs. Patmore is already setting up our late dinner,” Thomas said as he started folding up one of the tables used for the bazaar. 

Jimmy nodded and went back to stacking chairs. “You shouldn’t have to help with this.”

“It’s the life of an Under Butler.”

“You just got back from America, think you earned a rest.”

“Had a bit of rest over there.”

“What?”

Thomas glanced over at him as he moved to another table. “Just there was a lot of unexpected downtime. Saw the sights, went a few places… places where you could find alcohol. It was all very interesting and different. You would’ve loved the music.”

“Did you…” Jimmy started the question but he realized too late he didn’t want to know the answer. He felt mad suddenly and he knew he had no right to be but there it was was. He was mad at the idea of Thomas finding himself some American and… 

“No. I didn’t,” Thomas said easily with a friendly smile. 

“Good,” Jimmy answered staring right at him. 

“Jimmy…” Thomas started and suddenly Alfred appeared. Thomas rolled his eyes at Jimmy about another interruption and the three of them went to work, silently and quickly. Jimmy heard his stomach rumble and realized that asking Thomas to skip dinner wasn’t going to be an option. His impatience made him feel jittery and he practically bounced into the servants hall. 

He and Thomas found seats next to each other and Jimmy shifted his chair so they were closer, the legs touching because he needed to touch him. Thomas stilled when he did it and glanced over. Jimmy grinned at him and then reached for a dinner roll to dunk into the stew Mrs. Patmore had made. Everybody started to ask Thomas questions about America and he was more than willing to play his part and told them stories about what he got up too when he had his chances. He didn’t mention any of the illegal clubs, music or drinking to the general cloud. 

Everything was going fine until Mr. Molesley opened his damn mouth. 

“So, Mr. Barrow, maybe you can talk Jimmy into playing the song he wrote?”


	46. Chapter 46

“So, Mr. Barrow, maybe you can talk Jimmy into playing the song he wrote?”

Jimmy’s whole body tensed into the word no and he was amazed it didn’t come barreling out of his mouth. He glared at Molesley but he knew it wasn’t really the fools fault. Turning toward Thomas he expected the worse and saw it. Thomas had his fork halfway to his mouth and it was frozen there and seconds ticked by. Then slowly he dropped back down at the table and glanced at Jimmy. His entire expression was betrayal and Jimmy wanted to scream that he hated it too. 

They weren’t meant to know. 

“Thomas…” he pleaded lowly but Thomas looked away from him.

“Actually, I find I’m quite exhausted. Mr. Carson may I be excused?” 

“Yes, that seems fair you’ve had a long trip, Mr. Barrow.” 

Jimmy shot out of his chair with Thomas and nearly grabbed his hand to stop him from walking away. “Thomas…” his voice was too loud.

“It’s Mr. Barrow,” Thomas snapped at him and he was walking away. 

“James sit down,” Mr. Carson said but he sounded like he was far away and Jimmy was watching Thomas disappear up the stairwell the urge to run after him making him rock back on the balls of his feet. 

“James,” Mr. Carson repeated in a bellow and Jimmy startled. He turned back to the table and everyone was staring at him and Mr. Carson looked ready to yell at him again. He sat down with a loud scrap of his chair and stared down at his food all his hunger gone. 

“Rude as always our Mr. Barrow,” Mr. Bates said with a shake of his head.

“Must you always think the worst of him,” Jimmy snapped. “He wasn’t being rude.”

“Wasn’t he?” Anna asked. 

“No.” 

“How would that be,” Molesley asked with a nervous laugh.

“None of you…” Jimmy shut his mouth with a snap. He couldn’t tell them they weren’t meant to know about the song. He couldn’t tell them that it was _Theirs_ and no one else’s. They could never know the truth behind it and even if they did he knew they would never understand it. The couldn’t, not really and suddenly Jimmy felt sorry for them. 

“Mr. Carson, I really would like to be excused,” he said.

Carson looked at him. 

“I’m quite full already,” he said, avoiding looking at his full bowl of stew. 

Carson looked ready to heave out a sigh but instead he glanced at Mrs. Hughes. Jimmy pinned his eyes on her and willed her to be on his side, he wasn’t sure if she liked him but he was fairly sure she had an unexpected soft spot for Thomas. Maybe she got it just enough, maybe she’d let him go after him. 

“If he’s full, I see no reason to keep him.”

“Very well, but do not makes this a habit, James.”

“No sir, Mr. Carson. Thank you…” he tried to say it quickly enough to be heard but he was already halfway to the stairs and within seconds they were all forgotten.

For the second time that day he was racing up the stairs toward Thomas. He was racing to be exactly where he wanted to be. With Thomas. He knew why Thomas was upset because it rankled his nerves every time he remembered they knew he wrote the song. He never wanted them to know. It always been a relief in the fact none of them ever seemed to put it together. It was private and intimate and the only person he wanted to share that with was Thomas. He liked Cecilia and he trusted her more than his co-workers but he’d hated playing it for her. He hated she was a necessity to writing it. Thinking about Thomas was only way he got through that without gritting his teeth down to nothing. 

Thomas figured out his secret when no one else could or would want too. Thomas saw him and knew him to be more than pretty face with a charming grin. He played that up and he used it but it wasn’t the whole of him and Thomas saw him — and he needed Thomas to know he saw him too. 

The song was theirs. He hated they knew. He couldn’t change how many people knew it was written by him. But he did know they’d never understand what the song means. No one but Thomas would hear the journey in the notes. All they would hear was a song. They would never know it was about _Them_.

He banged on Thomas door but didn’t wait for answer and walked right in. Thomas was standing by his window, cigarette in his mouth and his eyes landed on Jimmy and they pinned him with betrayal. 

“I know,” Jimmy said and he closed the door behind him. 

“You told them,” Thomas spit out.

“No!”

“Oh, they just found out then?” 

“It was your bloody fault,” Jimmy snapped. 

“What?”

“Your telegram. Alfred read it and he announced how you were apologizing.”

Thomas scoffed and turned toward the window. 

“Bates was the sodding bastard he is and said something about you not knowing how — and I got pissed and showed it to him.”

Thomas stayed where he was and Jimmy sighed and closed the distance between them and he grabbed his shoulders and forced him to look at him. “Anna saw it too and she asked about it being mine, cause you were pissed off at me and called it just mine…. I never would’ve told them otherwise, Thomas. Never. You know that.” 

“I was so angry,” Thomas sighed. “I missed it. I missed us at the piano every night.”

Jimmy smiled.   
Thomas shook his head and stepped away from Jimmy and snuffed out the cigarette. “I don’t like them knowing.”

“I don’t either.”

“It’s…”

“Ours,” Jimmy reached forward and grabbed Thomas hand. “Our. They don’t know that and they never will. They could never understand.”

Thomas nodded but his eyes were on their hands and Jimmy tugged trying to get him closer to him. Thomas eyes widened and he looked at Jimmy, his mouth parting and then closing. 

“I want to play it for you, right now.”

“I don’t want them there,” Thomas’ voice broke. 

“No,” Jimmy agreed with a sigh and stepped closer to Thomas. Their gazes locked and he grinned. There was so much he wanted to say, that he needed to say but his mind wasn’t forming words at all and the song slipped into his mind because it said everything and he wanted to tell Thomas what every note he played meant because it was his heart opened up. 

“Jimmy…” Thomas voice sounded broken. 

Jimmy moved closer and reached out with other hand, it landed on his Thomas shoulder and tugged again. “I missed you,” he whispered again, suddenly overwhelmed by it. “I missed you before you left, I know that was my fault…” 

“Jimmy…” Thomas whimpered his left hand rising up and pushing slightly against his chest as his other hand pulled away from Jimmy’s. He stepped backwards a few steps and Jimmy’s breath caught as he recognized the look. Thomas was broken open and undone. 

“Thomas…” he stepped forward. 

“No…You… Have to leave.” 

Jimmy shook his head. 

“Please,” Thomas’ voice broke and he walked over to his door. “I…I’m tired.” 

“Thomas listen…” Jimmy started but he was interrupted. 

“I missed you too,” Thomas was looking at him with bright eyes his expression wide open. “I missed you too but you need to leave now. Please?”

“I don’t…”

“Jimmy,” Thomas barked. 

Words weren’t coming to him and Jimmy shook his head and his eyes landed on the song on the bed. He needed to play but he couldn’t now. This wasn’t the moment and he felt like his heart was breaking. He walked up to Thomas at the door and tried to keep eye contact but Thomas tore it away from them. 

“Please,” he begged.

“When I play the song… when you hear it again and for the first time. You’ll understand.” 

Thomas looked up at him.

“Just how much I missed you,” he whispered. 

Thomas eyes slid closed and he opened the door. 

~~~

The door closing sounded sharp and wrong to Thomas and he nearly opened it again and dragged him back into his room. But he didn’t dare because he was too blown apart and Jimmy knew but kept pushing and pushing forward and closer. 

What was he doing? Thomas gulped down air because it felt like he couldn’t breath and his chest felt tight and like his heart didn’t fit into it. Because of course he fallen for Jimmy more. It was the way he tore into his room, not long after he’d done the same thing himself. 

He’d run after him and no one did that for Thomas. Thomas leaned agains the door, closed his eyes and slid downward. He could feel Jimmy’s hand on his shoulder and how his right hand clutched Thomas’. He felt Jimmy’s breath against his face and sound of a whispered _I missed you_ that felt like it was saying something else all together. 

“But it can’t be… he can’t mean…” Thomas pulled his knees up to his chest and shook himself. “Don’t allow yourself to hope. He isn’t your sort.” He heard the words and his heart screamed that it was a lie. Thomas groaned and buried his face in his hands and told himself to listen to reason. 

But Jimmy kept touching him. 

Jimmy kept whispering into his ear. 

Jimmy ran after him not once but twice today.

Thomas looked over at his bed and saw the song sitting by his pillow. He rose up and walked over and picked it up. He stared at the title and the dedication and his mind spun even more and he felt shaky and like his knees might give out. He sat down with a thump on the bed. 

“It isn’t possible.” 

It wasn’t, it just couldn’t be — Jimmy wasn’t interested in him. Thomas couldn’t go down that path again. It would end him this time, it would break him completely apart. He never pull the pieces back together right… 

Pushing Jimmy out of the room was the right call, he let him know he crossed the line again and was playing with his heart. It was clear up and they could fall back to their normal. But no — Thomas looked at the song and felt a yearning to hear it played. Suddenly it didn’t matter the whole downstairs knew Jimmy wrote it or would end up hearing it when Jimmy played it.

He needed to hear it. 

He wanted to hear something that was him and Jimmy. 

“Us,” he whispered as he traced the title with his index finger.


	47. Chapter 47

Jimmy paced his room. 

He stripped off his livery and got into a clean vest and his sleep pants. 

He barged out of his room three different times and went Thomas’ door but he didn’t knock and he didn’t walk in. It wasn’t that he was afraid, he knew he wasn’t. He was the opposite of afraid, he knew what he felt and he knew what he needed to do. 

It was that the doing was proving difficult. Thomas looked ready to shatter and Jimmy wanted to do the opposite, he wanted to keep him glued together because he was no fool. Thomas Barrow had shattered before, probably more than once, and the most recent had been at Jimmy’s hand. He would never forgive O’Brien, he thought, he hated that woman with a clear passion but he knew his own culpability. 

He knew it deeper and deeper the longer he knew Thomas. He knew his own lies and his own fear. And he couldn’t blame Thomas for looking frightened and needing to shove him away. What he had to do was calm Thomas’ fear? He had to stop Thomas from being afraid of him and he wasn’t sure how to do that beyond playing the song. 

It was the song again. It was the answer as always because it was him as notes in the air and it was all wrapped around in Thomas. He was the reason Jimmy felt like a whole person for the first time in his entire life. He needed to give wholeness back to Thomas.

Thomas Barrow wasn’t shattered glued together pieces. He was honestly beautiful. It was clear as day to Jimmy and he knew he would never have patience with anyone who couldn’t see it. Including Thomas Barrow. 

He looked at the time and it was going on midnight. He spun around in the middle of his room where he’d stopped pacing and barged out of his room again. He planned to walk right into Thomas’ room this time — he wasn’t sure what he was going to do or what he was going to say. All he knew was something had to be done. 

But he walked right into Alfred. 

“Oi, sorry Jimmy,” Alfred mumbled as he clutched his towel. 

Jimmy stared at him and the towel, he looked at all other closed doors. “Everyone up here, then?”

“Everyone’s heading to bed, yeah. Long day.”

“No one is downstairs?”

“Don’t think so…Mrs. Hughes might’ve been in her sitting room.”

Jimmy frowned and started toward the stairs.

“What’re doing?”

“None of your business, go to bed, Alfred.”

He raced down the stairs and straight to Mrs. Hughes’ sitting room. He knocked on the door and then tried it. Locked up tight. He peered under it and saw no lights. He walked into the kitchen and the servants hall — glancing at the piano for a long moment, his whole body itching to sit down at it and play. But a vital piece of the puzzle was upstairs. So, for the third time in the last twelve hours he raced back up the stairs and up to Thomas bedroom. 

His heart was thunder and he didn’t care that he was out of breathe. This was the most important moment of his life, he thought and he banged on the door once again and then walked inside. 

Thomas was sitting on his bed, looking at the song and Jimmy’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of it. It looked right, and it made him more certain about everything that was bubbling inside of him when it came to Thomas. 

There gazes locked and Jimmy stepped forward, moving closer, because he couldn’t stop himself and he didn’t care to try. Why would he try to stay away from Thomas? It was absurd. He took in quick breath and refused to avert his gaze away

“Come with me.”

“What?”

“It’s time, Thomas.”

“Jimmy,” Thomas sounded weary but he was staring right at him. His gray eyes sharp but sad and it was hurting Jimmy and he meant to put a stop to it. 

“None of that,” he said softly. “ It’s time to hear our song, please, Thomas?” His voice broke from the weight of it and it was suddenly hard to breath. 

Thomas stared up at him and he looked down at the song and back up at Jimmy. He let out a long slow breath and with one graceful motion he was standing and they were so close. Jimmy inhaled him, smoke and winter he thought and they were less than an inch apart because he’d moved so close to the bed, needing to be near him. The only thing between them was the written song in Thomas’ hands.

“Okay,” he said. 

Jimmy felt relief flood him and he took the song out of Thomas’s hands and quickly put it onto the bed. “It belongs here,” he explained. “I have it inside me, I don’t need to see it…” he reached down and grabbed Thomas’ hand and tugged. 

He held his hand all the way down the stairs and into the servants hall. He only dropped it when he got to the piano and he slid onto the bench. Thomas stood and looked between the piano and the rocking chair. 

“Here?” Jimmy said patting the bench. 

“I…” Thomas swallowed and grabbed the rocking chair and pulled it closer to the piano. “Can’t…” he whispered. 

Jimmy nodded but he hated it. But he’d figure it out, he’d find a way to get through to Thomas what he meant, what he felt, what he wanted to say — why were words so hard, he thought. He was meant to be charming but he felt he had nothing adequate to say, but he had the song. He settled himself on the bench and looked down at the keys. Fear closed in around him. This was it. He was going to play this song for the most important person in his life —

The only important person in his life. 

He glanced at Thomas and he was staring right at him with a blush on his cheeks but he didn’t look away. Jimmy saw his hunger and his need and he wished Thomas could see that it was reflected back. He would make that happen and smiled at Thomas and nodded. 

Then he started playing. 

~~~

“None of that,” he said softly. “ It’s time to hear our song, please, Thomas?” 

It was torture, Thomas thought as he stared at Jimmy, the please a knife going through him. Because it was Jimmy’s biggest weapon, Thomas couldn’t deny him. But it also sliced another notch of hope into his his heart and he kept trying to rationalize away from it but it was hard when Jimmy looked at him like he was now. There was so much in his eyes and wasn’t sure he ever seen his expression so wide open. It was the please and it was his own need to hear the song that had him standing up, clutching the song itself in his hands. 

“Okay.” 

Jimmy’s smile was blinding and he reached forward. Taking the papers away from him and gently placing them down on Thomas bed. His voice sounded reverent as he said it belonged it his room. Then he was grabbing Thomas’ hand again, sending heat and shocked throughout Thomas’ body. “I have it inside me, I don’t need to see it.” 

Then he was pulling Thomas with him, not letting go of his hand. Every single step down the staircase Thomas felt like his heart was thudding louder and louder. Their hands were a white hot point and he wondered what he’d done to deserve this gift and how he was going to deal when Jimmy stopped leaning in so close. This was all about the song, it was about friendship, it was intense and it was beautiful. 

It had to be fleeting. 

Jimmy’s hand slipped from his as he went to the piano and Thomas felt instantly empty but he watched Jimmy sit down and leave room for Thomas to sit next to him on the piano bench. And it was Thomas’ favorite place in the world, on that piano bench next to Jimmy as he played his own music. The notes surrounding them, only them understanding what Jimmy was doing. It was a world where only they existed and Thomas wanted to live there. 

But he couldn’t be so close to him, not now, he was feeling everything too intensely and too deeply. He was shaking and he was afraid of what he might do simply because their legs and shoulders would touch. And the song, the song would be playing. And he somehow expected it to break his heart. So he looked at the rocking chair. 

“Here,” Jimmy said patting the bench.

“I…can’t…” he stammered out and hoped Jimmy understood. All the same he pulled the rocking chair as close to the piano as he could get it and settled down onto it. Jimmy watched him the whole time and he seemed to take in a shaky breath but then his fingers hit the keys and he started to play. 

_Us_

The song started out angry and Thomas remembered. He remembered the first angry notes and how taken it to heart it was about him. Something he was sure still held true but as the notes continued the anger turned inward — Thomas shut his eyes and marveled at how Jimmy created feelings with the notes he played. It was turning inward and the saddest piece of the song came into being — and it was after the fair wasn’t it, when Thomas first heard these notes?

Then came the piece that sounded a bit like the Scottish lullaby and were played over and over, mixing in the sadness and a bit of the inward anger that Thomas knew now without a doubt was Jimmy’s own and it segued into a sound that rolled through Thomas as confusion and the sad refrain started up again with add notes… 

The song was a circle Thomas thought, hearing it all flow through in the order Jimmy always meant it to be but Thomas never heard before. It wasn’t at all how was expecting it to be really, how it wrapped in and around itself and when back to the beginning and the middle before the end started form… 

It was the clear melody wrapping around the final version of the sadder notes, it wrapped around it until it faded the sadness away and then everything was hope and bright. The hope made Thomas’ heart flutter and a shiver slide down his spine and he reached out and put his hand on Jimmy’s leg and realized at the touch he was on the piano the bench… and the last note faded away. 

Thomas opened his mouth but gasp came out and he realized he was crying. Jimmy’s hand covered his and he leaned against Thomas, their temples touching and he heard Jimmy’s own breath hitch. They turned slightly more facing the other and Thomas felt another sob hit him and his face fell down onto Jimmy’s shoulder. Both of Jimmy’s arms wrapped around him then and he heard Jimmy’s own chest clench. 

“I told you… it’s everything,” Jimmy whispered. 

“Almost too much.” Thomas cried into his shoulder.


	48. Chapter 48

Thomas was powerless against the wave of emotions that continued to settle onto him and though the music stopped it wasn’t gone. He felt it on his skin and felt it the way Jimmy was breathing. Once again breath was against his ear but it was keeping him together now instead of spiraling him further apart. He was fully unspooled now but he wasn’t breaking. He wondered if he could with Jimmy’s arms around him. He clutched onto him harder, giving into the neediness. _Just this once,_ he thought and buried his head deeper into Jimmy’s neck and fought the urge to kiss the skin he knew was under his lips. 

“Thomas…” Jimmy breathed and he waited for him to say more, but instead he felt Jimmy’s breath hitch and he buried his nose into his hair. They were both crying and that had Thomas blinking back more tears and he felt Jimmy inhale and when exhaled the breath rushed against his ear and he felt his whole body flutter… And he let himself enjoy it, love it, he let himself need it and for the most fleeting seconds believe it. . 

“It sounded different with you here…” Jimmy whispered. “When I played it alone it told me you needed to be here with… God, I didn’t know.” 

“It’s…” Thomas lifted his head but only enough to see Jimmy. He saw the tears on Jimmy’s cheeks and felt everything rush through him again and blinked his own eyes. Hearing him crying wasn’t the same as seeing the tracks on his face or the shine in his eyes from them. He reached out without thought his thumb catching on. “It’s more than I thought it be,” he agreed. 

Jimmy eyes slide shut and one of his hands went to the base of Thomas’ neck, his thumb stroking the skin. “Thomas there is…” he leaned forward and shook his head slightly, his eyes opening and Thomas fell into blue and he lost all his breathe. He reached out and gripped onto Jimmy’s shoulders because he felt like the world tilted on him. He saw more tears escape Jimmy’s eyes and he knew his own were falling too. It was odd to find it wonderful but that’s how it all felt. The song was everything, Thomas had no other definition for it. It spoke of so much, it was their friendship and Thomas knew he was blessed to been given so much intimacy from Jimmy — who owed him nothing but had put everything he was into their friendship. 

“How?” he whispered staring into Jimmy’s eyes. 

“I want…” Jimmy whispered but his voice broke off with a sob and his head fell onto Thomas’ shoulder and he shook. Thomas wrapped his arms around him, pulling him closer than he should, closer than should dare but he was going to dare. Just this one he would dare because this moment was whispering to him that was okay. This was okay, he could hold him because Jimmy was holding him. 

“Whatever you want,” Thomas whispered to him and ran a hand through his hair. 

Jimmy hummed into his shoulder and Thomas smiled, the notes of the song vibrating against his shoulder. Jimmy pulled Thomas into him tighter and hummed and Thomas eyes closed. They rocked together, body heat warming them, Thomas could inhale Jimmy deeply sweaty and smoky and like a summer day. Thomas squeezed his eyes tight and thought he was too bright to hold this close, it was holding a star and it couldn’t be allowed — so he tightened his grip, let himself get lost on smell and on Jimmy humming against his skin. 

They both fell into the sound, the buzzing of the hum and the knowledge of their song, their breathing calmed and their eyes stopped filling with tears and Jimmy slowly lifted his head up and Thomas met his gaze. His eyes looked wild and he opened his mouth again but only a squeak came out and he sighed deeply. 

“I can’t talk,” his voice crackled with emotion.

“Then don’t…” Thomas whispered and let himself put his palm against Jimmy’s cheek.

“If I don’t…” Jimmy inhaled sharply as his voice broke again and tears spilled out his eyes again. “You need to know…”

“I know,” Thomas said.

Jimmy shook his head. “But you don’t, Thomas….you have no idea I…” he licked his lips and wiped at his face and Thomas caught his hand and Jimmy laughed. “Keep doing that…” he whispered.

“What?” Thomas asked squeezing his hand. 

Jimmy bent his head forward and whispered in his ear. “Afraid you’ll stop if I point it out.” 

Thomas shook his head at him confused and realized how much he was shaking, he gripped onto Jimmy harder, hoping couldn’t notice because he felt dizzy again and thought about the song and what meant and how he felt. 

“Thank you,” whispered. 

“For?” Jimmy asked guileless. 

“The song… It was….” Thomas stumbled for words. “Stunning, beguiling, it was…it was as all things.” He touched his face again. “You are always so awe inspiring.”

Jimmy blushed and looked away and Thomas was sure it was first time he seen the beautiful man in front of him bashful. It shocked him and he heard himself chuckle. “And always surprising.” 

“I want to surprise you….” Jimmy grabbed his left hand and pulled against his chest, looking down. “You…” his voice cracked and he had look away. “You’re too bright.”

Thomas laughed outright and he felt more tears spill down his face. “I am?”

“Yes,” Jimmy shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard it so clearly in my head as I am now — the whole melody, every change and dip. It’s more alive now and you feel it too, don’t you?”

“Yes…why do you think I’m shaking.”

“Shaken too…” Jimmy whispered. “So spun around…”

The mantle clock suddenly sounded off one loud strike. Thomas started at the sound of it, hands dropping from Jimmy, spine straight and he looked right at the clock. 

One Am. 

His eyes closed. He felt dizzy, he felt fuzzy, he felt found — he opened his eyes and right into Jimmy’s and whispered his thought out loud. “You’ve made me drunk.”

“I know the feeling,” Jimmy respond. 

Thomas stood up but he reached for Jimmy’s hand.   
Jimmy took it and Thomas felt satisfaction as he was allowed to help Jimmy to his feet. Jimmy stepped closer, ever closer, and Thomas felt a quiver of fear and he tried to push it away. He was going to enjoy this, all of this, the daze, the closeness, the way Jimmy seemed as overwhelmed as him. He tugged on Jimmy’s hand and pulled them toward the stairs. 

“Where are we going?”

“Upstairs before we get caught being down here in sleep clothes,” he answered and his pragmatism seemed so out place he nearly apologized but Jimmy laughed. 

“Always so practical, Mrs. Hughes caught me last time I was down here.”

“What do you do without me?”

“Never want to find out.”

That flutter rose up from his stomach to his heart and Thomas tore his eyes away from Jimmy because he was burning bright and Thomas was falling and falling. He gripped onto his hand and walked as close to him as he could without knocking them both off balance. Soon he was going to have to let go but it wouldn’t be until the last possible minute. 

~~~

Jimmy allowed Thomas to tug him up the stairs but it was the last thing he wanted to do… If anything he wanted to stay on the piano bench and just breath Thomas in, he wanted to breath him in, he wanted to trap Thomas against him and he gripped his hand tighter thinking about it. He wanted to be closer than was probably possible. He never felt this before and was overwhelming. And their song was overwhelming, it was loud in his mind and more vivid than it ever been when he wasn’t playing it. 

And playing it for Thomas was an experience he never felt before. He started crying a few bars into the song and hadn’t really stopped since. Everything he felt, all the secrets he was holding, the ultimate choice he made was pouring into every note and he felt it all from the inside out. He nearly lost track of the song when Thomas slid onto the piano bench and he felt the pressure of his leg against his own and how his arm kept brushing Thomas’ as he moved across the keys. It was perfect him being right there, right next to him, as he played everything that was inside of him. 

Thomas fell apart, Thomas fell into his arms and Jimmy wrapped himself around him and held him. For the first time he felt like he was being there for Thomas and it was heady because Thomas was allowing him. Thomas was touching him and not pulling back. Thomas was clinging to him and it set him fire and he wanted to stoke it. 

He wanted to speak but every time he tried the true depth of his feelings and emotions stunned him quiet. Every time he tried he saw what he wanted to say reflected at him from Thomas expression and his face. And Thomas’ thumb catching his tears and his palm against Jimmy’s cheek. He never wanted those touches to stop — but he saw it in Thomas’ eyes. He expected them too — this was just a moment for Thomas.

Because he still didn’t know and Jimmy stopped walking, they were one only a foot away from the attic door but he stopped them. “Thomas…” his voice shook. 

“Yes?” Thomas looked straight at him and Jimmy realized he was smiling and god it was blinding. 

“You’re too bright,” he whispered again and it made Thomas laugh heartily. 

“So are you.”

That was… this was how it all felt than wasn’t it? This was how Thomas always felt wasn’t it> Bowled over and unable to think, unable to speak, everything rolling through him at lightning speed. How did you even breath when you felt like this all time? 

“How…” Jimmy sighed and realized he lost his way and tried to get back to what he wanted to say, what he needed to say. 

Thomas tugged on his arm again and started walking. Jimmy followed him and searched in his mind for what to say, he needed to say when they got to his door or Thomas’ door, whatever door he was guiding them too. He had to find the words, impatience was clawing up his spine but he was so dazed, he was truly overwhelmed and the song was reminding him why as it played in his head. 

“You’re humming…” Thomas nudged his shoulder. “It’s nice.”

Jimmy smiled and didn’t stop, it seemed the only way to calm himself and then before he knew it Thomas stopped them in front of Jimmy’s door. He moved closer to him and put his head down on his shoulder and wrapped his arms around him. It was instinct that had Jimmy pressing against him, pulling him in even closer. It felt right. It felt like truth. It felt like everything. 

“Thank you,” Thomas whispered against his skin and he slowly stepped backward. 

“I need to tell you… so much,” Jimmy managed to get out but he heard his voice break and he was beginning to understand why Thomas pulled back when he felt cracked open. 

Thomas shook and reached out and touched Jimmy’s face. “I… it’s too much.”

“I know, I know…” Jimmy reached out and grabbed his shoulders. “But I need to tell you…”

“Tomorrow.”

Jimmy shook his head.

“Please?” Thomas stroked his cheek. “I’m… it’s too much,” he repeated. “I… can barely breathe and you… gave me so much tonight and I…” he ducked his head but Jimmy knew, he felt it… Thomas loved him. 

“And I…” 

“Shhh,” Thomas hummed. “I’ll dream of tonight.”

Say it, he thought, just say it outright and right now, Jimmy thought but he couldn’t… he couldn’t just blurt out the truth in the hallway. He looked at his door and thought about dragging Thomas inside with him but Thomas was smiling at him now and so in love with him. He opened his mouth to try to say something, any part of all the things he wanted to say but all that came out was a broken… “Thomas.”

Maybe he needed the space too. 

“Jimmy.” Thomas touched his face again, it made Jimmy grin and they both stood there. Neither moving despite deciding to say good night — so reluctantly. Thomas returned his smile and Jimmy felt dazed and Thomas was so close, there were so close and Jimmy eyes fell to his mouth And maybe he couldn’t talk but he could do this, he could act… 

Thomas was touching him and hovering so close. Jimmy eyes slide closed, he leaned forward but all his lips caught was air. His eyes opened and Thomas was walking backwards until he reached his door. 

“Tomorrow,” Thomas whispered and he was gone.


	49. Chapter 49

Thomas closed his door with his body and then leaned on it, letting it take his full weight. He heard the wood creak and it sounded loud in the room because he was holding his breathe and that was the only sound. Sound — he wished he could carry Jimmy’s music with him. The song was was in his mind, it was bright and clear but he knew his inner ear couldn’t do it any justice. No, he needed Jimmy’s magic and his ability to turn notes into an emotion, a melody into a hug and a refrain into a journey. 

“Jimmy…” he breathed his name, his two favorite syllables and remembered Jimmy’s hands on him, Jimmy’s breathe in his ear, all his whispers, his wide eyes full of emotions and the tears that fell between them downstairs. Never had he cried with another man, not even during the war, never had he felt so incredible close to another person and for it be with him, with Jimmy. 

“My love,” Thomas whispered it, allowed himself to whisper it aloud, he heard it in the air and bit his lip. It barely hurt tonight, to feel it, to think it, to say it. “My love…” he whispered it again and felt the weight of it on his tongue and the song played in his mind and Jimmy’s hands around his back were there — the weight of them. The feeling wasn’t waning and Thomas wasn’t going to allow it too, he was going to make sure this night was ever present in his mind. As vividly as he could manage it, he wasn’t letting touch, any words, any moment go unremembered. 

Tears escaped his eyes and he smiled because they weren’t from pain and the weren’t from longing. They were from something more special than mere friendship, they were from a connection. One he knew Jimmy felt too, he’d seen the tears on his face and in his eyes. He heard his voice, silenced by emotion… And he saw so many words in Jim my’s eyes and he craved to know them… 

But he wasn’t sure he could take anymore. He was shaking, he was crying and he was falling and falling. “Always falling…” he smiled because he would never regret one moment of knowing Jimmy Kent. Even if in the future it all falls apart in pain and tears. He’ll have tonight when it was tears born of connection, intimacy and love. 

Maybe not the love he wanted but…. It was more love than he was used too. He swallowed emotion building and he crossed his room. He dropped down to open the bottom drawer of his bureau and pulled out the leather bound journal he kept underneath his socks. It took him awhile to find his pen but then he realized it was by his bed — his eyes fell on the sheets of music and he looked at his pen. Jimmy written the title and dedication with it — he grinned and thought about Jimmy looking for it, being in his room and leaving the song. 

“Must love him…” he chuckled when he realized if that’d been anyone else he’d plotting to get them fired. But then no one ever snooped in his room with the best of intentions. The Duke crossed his mind and how he managed his way into his room and found the letters — Jimmy left a letter, a beautiful one, one that far surpassed the cheeky things Philip once written to him. 

Thomas picked up the song and took with him his armchair, he settled in and looked at the song. Was this the same night he’d found it? I felt like a month worth of things had happened since he returned to Downton. But no it’d been one day — a half of one — so much could happen in so little time, he thought. He traced the notes on the first page with his fingers and the song as Jimmy played less than an hour ago echoed in his mind. He folded them up carefully and pushed them into the back of the journal for safekeeping. Where he would always knew it would be — the greatest gift ever given him. 

He flipped the journal to the first blank page and realized he didn’t know where to start. He didn’t know where to begin. The day was full and he was overwhelmed. He closed his eyes and thought about holding Jimmy, feeling the weight of him in his arms. He felt Jimmy’s fingers against his hands, how tightly he gripped onto him…. How he kept touching him from the moment he returned. 

_I missed you._ Breathy and arousing in his ear and then so many other things whispered downstairs, the song echoing around them — like in Thomas’ dream. Thomas shivered and wondered if he even had the words to write down the memory….

He wouldn’t do the memory justice, but it must be put into words and he must spend this night allowing himself to savor it. It was his only chance too, this was his allotted night to simple feel loving Jimmy. He would hold onto all of Jimmy’s tears, all his touches, of his allowing Thomas to touch him because he understood how overwhelmed he was… 

He held Jimmy as he cried into his shoulder and then he hummed into the both of them could breathe easier. Jimmy seen him wrecked more than once but he never seen Jimmy torn apart and raw. Never seen him look so wild and yet so sure. Jimmy touched his face, his neck and buried his nose in his hair… 

“Almost as if…” he wished and let himself close his eyes and believe for a fleeting moment that Jimmy might feel anything more for him than friendship. He smiled and thought it was a nice dream, it’d be lovely to be able to caress his face without thinking it would be the only time. 

He closed the journal and put it back in its place. He was too emotional, too overwhelmed. His mind was racing from seeing the song to hearing the song. To afterwards, they cried together with no judgement or embarrassment. They spoke in half sentences and broken whispers. They touched and touched and Thomas shivered at all the memories and climbed into his bed. 

“Savor it,” he whispered to himself. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and allowed himself to viscerally feel every single touch between them and the feeling of Jimmy’s breathy whispers against his skin. 

He fell asleep smiling. 

~~~

“Time. He just needs time, it happens,” Jimmy told himself. He was laying on his bed, covers kicked down and staring at his ceiling. It was habit of late and it was getting annoying. He tried to close his eyes but they would just fly open because he would feel Thomas arms wrapped around him, or how Thomas hand landed on his leg while he was playing the piano. Or the way Thomas caught his tears and caressed his cheek. Thomas palm hot against his own blushing cheek. He shift on the all the touches rolling through him and the emotion welling up at the back of his throat and he felt tears again. 

He rarely cried. He cried when his mother died, that was the last time he cried… He frowned thinking about it now because it didn’t relate to now in anyway except for there being tears. Jimmy felt the tears sting his eyes as he remember staring into Thomas eyes and seeing him loving him. And how he wanted to tell him, how much he needed to tell him; but everything he felt from the deepest part of his heart overwhelmed him and he was lucky if he could get out one syllable. 

Jimmy took in a long breath, hearing one the longer notes from the song in his mind. The song, the song became more layered every time he played it. It was because of Thomas. It overwhelmed him, it all overwhelmed him and he welcomed it. He felt closer to Thomas today than he ever felt with anyone else, that he could feel for anybody else. He was used to only looking out for himself but he knew he wanted to look out for Thomas. He needed to look out for Thomas because he deserved it. 

“Time… he wants time,” Jimmy muttered. “It’s normal, it happens all the time when you push him too far and get under his skin. When you remind him how much he loves you. When you take more from him than you can give…” his mouth snapped shut and he sat up. 

Jimmy stood up and started pacing the room. The reasons Thomas asked for time were because thinks his feelings aren't returned, and when he can’t hide them he wants to protect Jimmy from them. Thomas was given distance when he was aroused and wanted to keep Jimmy from being uncomfortable. The distance was failsafe to protect their friendship. 

“What are you doing?” Jimmy stopped short and bent over to catch the breath he lost. They were friends, they were amazing friends, Thomas was his best friend — really his only true friend. They understood each other. Thomas knew he was more than handsome and charming. And he knew Thomas was more than disdain and plotting. He knew Thomas’ heart and he knew that heart belonged to him. And he wanted it. He wanted Thomas heart and every other part of him he could have…

He wanted Thomas. He never wanted Thomas to stop touching him. His face, his shoulders, his hands… He’d tried to kissed him and failed because Thomas moved away because he couldn’t see that Jimmy wanted it. That Jimmy wanted him… 

“Why couldn’t I talk…” Jimmy breathed out in frustration. “I couldn’t…” the emotions hit again, the music was in his head and he thought about how they sat there and cried. How easy it was, how he knew Thomas understood and he wasn’t afraid Thomas saw him like broken down and emotional. Because he could only be that with him, for him — would do anything for him — because it’s only for Thomas his heart beats. 

_If he knew I felt about him the way he feels about me what would he do?_ Jimmy paced his room mulling it over because he felt like if he didn’t do something now he would regret it for the rest of his life. He couldn’t let Thomas try to put distance between them, he couldn’t allow Thomas to even dare to pretend hearing their song hadn’t changed anything. 

“Think,” Jimmy barked at himself.

 _If he knew I felt about him the way he feels about me what would he do?_

“Oh….” Jimmy laughed. 

He ran out of his room and was at Thomas’ door in a flash. He hesitated only long enough to know he wasn’t turning back. He didn’t knock, instead he opened the door quietly and carefully stepped inside of the room. He closed it and locked it behind him. He paused by it and looked at the bed where Thomas was sleeping and shadows covered his face. 

But the night was already giving away to the gray of early morning. Jimmy moved closer to the bed and he could see Thomas. He lost his breath at the sight of him. His expression looked light and happy in his sleep. He was blinding him again and Jimmy he hoped the slight smile was become of him. 

It took his breath away the thought of making Thomas happy. He stood and watched the rise and fall of his chest. Slowly he sank down onto the edge of the bed. He reached out trailed his fingers lightly over Thomas’ cheekbone and wondered at how stupid he’d been for so long. 

“I get it now….” and he bent down and kissed Thomas.


	50. Chapter 50

Jimmy pressed his lips against Thomas' and found himself taking a sharp breathe, he thought about all the times he fantasized about kissing him. All the times he found himself focused on his red lips and wanting to lean in to taste them. He hated himself for denying he felt it. He was angry at himself for taking so long to give into it. He increased the pressure against his lips and his breath was trapped in his throat as the moment hung in the air. Could Thomas feel him and he started doubt if Thomas kissing him back. His pulse was rushing. 

But the lips underneath his own pushed upward against his own. Small movements at first and then more so and Jimmy whimpered against his lips in relief and shifted more over Thomas, deepening the kiss and praying he was waking up. Thomas made a sound and his body shifted upward underneath Jimmy and he leaned more of weight on top of Thomas. 

“Hmmm…” Thomas hummed underneath him but suddenly stilled. 

Jimmy lifted slightly away from him his eyes opening and he saw Thomas staring up at him. Once again emotion slammed into him and he found he couldn’t speak. 

“Jimmy?” Thomas voice was rough and he looked confused. 

“Yeah,” Jimmy breathed. 

“What?”

Jimmy bent down and kissed him again because it was all he could do. And he wanted to, he wanted to urgently. Thomas gasped underneath him and was still for only a brief moment before his hands rose up and grabbed at Jimmy’s face and he pressed upward into the kiss. Jimmy made a noise he didn’t know he could and smiled against Thomas’ lips because it was beyond all his imaginings. 

“Jimmy…” Thomas mouth broke away, he was leaning up, hands pressed against Jimmy’s cheeks eyes wide and looking right at him like never seen him before his eyes wide and so intense and Jimmy realized Thomas controlled his ability to breathe. 

“It’s me.”

“I’m…. not dreaming?”

“No,” Jimmy whispered and pressed a soft kiss against his lips. 

Thomas kept staring at him, remnants of sleep and confusion fading away but his stare remained intense and Jimmy never seen his want shaper or clearer — and he realized how much Thomas held back on the occasions when his mask slipped. He never wanted Thomas to keep it inside again, he never wanted to see that mask, he never wanted Thomas to try hide from him. And he wished he could say it all out loud but instead he shifted so he could reach down and stroke his fingers down a cheekbone and stare down at his lips. 

Thomas grabbed his hand and pushed his other against Jimmy chest, moving him up and soon he was sitting on the edge of the bed again and Thomas was sitting up. He kept Jimmy’s hand in his, turned it over and staring down at it and then he looked at him again his expression was all want and wonder. When he leaned forward and kissed Jimmy he felt all the wind knock out of him, Thomas kissed him hard, it was all need and all emotion. His tongue licked at Jimmy’s bottom lip and his mouth broke open in whimper and Thomas plunged inside of his mouth, his tongue doing things that made Jimmy’s whole bend into him and he was trying to keep up because Thomas was trying to make up for lost time. 

Their mouths only parted when their breathing became too ragged, the both of them out breathe and Jimmy thought he might be dizzy. But he didn’t care not when Thomas grabbed his hand and kissed the inside of his wrist, slowing his dragging his lips, dragging out the motion as he stared right into Jimmy’s eyes. Jimmy felt his face heat and he was amazed it could because he was overheated as it was and he swallowed hard as Thomas repeated the kiss. 

“I can do this?” Thomas asked as he did again. “Been wanting to do this, Jimmy, for so long.”

“Then don’t stop…” Jimmy barely recognized his voice. 

Thomas dragged his lips again across the skin of his wrist, never ceasing with the staring and Jimmy thought maybe he’d combust. “I’m not dreaming?” Thomas whispered again. 

“No.”

“No?” 

“Unless I am too,” Jimmy leaned forward and kissed him softly. “See,” he whispered against his lips. “This is real.” Another light kiss until Thomas surged forward and took more, took all he could and Jimmy let him because he felt as greedy. 

Instead of pulling away when they ran out of air, this time Thomas dragged his lips across Jimmy’s jaw before he found his lips again briefly before trailing the same path. He hummed as he heard Thomas muttering things against his skin but wasn’t able to make out a word. He leaned back and Thomas lips found his throat and he hummed more deeply and Thomas chuckled against his skin. 

“Vibrates…” 

Jimmy hummed another series of notes and thought Thomas’ mouth was a perfect thing. “Thomas….” it was a hum and it sounded so much like a piece of their song they both froze as their gazes locked. 

“You really are here?” Thomas whispered.

“Yes,” Jimmy leaned forward, bringing their foreheads together. 

“How?” Thomas breathed out in wonder. 

“I…” the emotions swamped him again and constricted his throat. “There is a lot I need to tell you.”

Thomas nodded and he caressed his cheek again. “You… want me?” 

His voice was broken sad and too amazed and Jimmy felt anger curl up in his chest. He leaned forward his mouth going to Thomas’ ear. “I want you, I want you so much I can’t say it…” and his voice broke proving his point. “I’ve wanted you what seems like forever.”

“I don’t understand…” Thomas shook his head. 

“I know,” Jimmy leaned forward and kissed him. Thomas reached out and pulled him impossibly closer, their chests met and Jimmy felt them falling down and he was over him again and thought it the best place to him. Thomas was greedy and Jimmy opened himself up and just let him take — he’d kept him away far too long. 

~~~

He’d been dreaming, the music soft in the background and he held Jimmy in his arms at the piano bench, their hands rubbing up and down their backs and each other’s arms, they held hands and stared into each other. They were so close Thomas felt like he was floating and in the dream he was hovering, closer and closer to Jimmy’s mouth. He was dreaming of the moments before a kiss and dreaming about what the shape of it would become. 

In his dream it was him that leaned forward, needing to taste Jimmy and knowing this was where he was he could — he could feel him and love him and cherish it all. The song swirling around them. He pressed his lips against Jimmy’s mouth and they fell into a soft, pleasant kiss and there was comforting buzz in Thomas’ bones. It was soft and perfect and meant to be savored. 

Slowly though it shifted, the music faded away first and Thomas realized he was lying down, a presence and pressure above him and the lips against his mouth felt warmer and they tasted of toothpaste and something else, something real and he wanted more of them. Soft and savored felt too little and he moved up and into the solid form above him and pressing harder against his lips. It was visceral and real and his heart was hammering. 

But it wasn’t until he hear a sound that wasn’t from his own throat that he started to realized he wasn’t no longer in a dream. His entire body stilled and his eyes opened. Jimmy, his beautiful Jimmy was over him, eyes wide and breathing roughly. Jimmy was staring down at him with an expression of want and need etched on his face and Thomas lost his breath… and it took him a few tries to speak his name. And maybe there were more words but Jimmy leaned down and kissed him.

Jimmy kissed him. His brain whirred with it… Jimmy was kissing him. Jimmy was kissing him. It was beautiful and unexpected and it felt wilder and more wonderful than any dream…yet he was having trouble believing it. But it was true because they were kissing on too small a bed. There was no music playing around them like there always was in Thomas’ dreams. Jimmy was heavy and solid above him and it was bit uncomfortable to have so much weight on top him but he wasn’t complaining it was astonishing.

“Jimmy…” Thomas breathed out a part of him still not believing it. 

“It’s me,” he said and voice was rough from lack of breath and his lips looked flushed from the kissing. He was fucking gorgeous and Thomas grabbed hold of him. All his patience broke apart and all the yearning was set free. He grabbed and shoved Jimmy all at once and pushed them up and pushed his mouth against Jimmy licking into his mouth to finally taste him fully, to have him against him in the best of ways. 

Then was dragging his lips over Jimmy’s wrist and held his hand close to his heart they way he had in a million fantasies. The taste of his skin far surpassed his imaginings. He dared to, in the faintest of a whisper that he loved him against his throat. Thomas’ heart felt likely to burst from his chest. He yanked him down and kissed him deeper and harder because he couldn’t hold back any longer. 

And Jimmy was letting him and he was humming their song against Thomas’ skin, Thomas felt it the vibrations as he licked across his throat and his hands pushed up under his vest, palms skimming the skin of his back and Jimmy moaned and pushed his tongue more deeply into Thomas mouth. They kissed and Jimmy pulled Thomas upward and yanked at his vest and then they were skin to skin, kissing and Jimmy kept humming his name and it sounded like the song. 

His eyes stung and he pulled back, his head going to Jimmy’s shoulder. Tears spilling out of him again and it was all too much but for the first time he wasn’t going to back away from it. There was no backing away anymore…. Wasn’t there? 

“What is it,” Jimmy whispered into his ear and Thomas groaned at the feel of his breath against his ear. He could undo him so easily, so easily. 

“You…” Thomas whispered out.

“Me?”

“This isn’t…” Thomas stared into Jimmy eyes and he saw things he was having a hard time believing. “An aberration?”

“What no…” he shook his head and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Thomas… I….” and his voice cracked. “I want you and I have… how I feel is swallowing up the words.” 

“Feel?”

“Yes….Thomas…” and it was that note from the song again, his named breathed into music on Jimmy’s tongue. It was true. This was real, Thomas realized and he stared at Jimmy in wonder. Jimmy grinned at him and he lunged forward and kissed him hard and deep and Thomas whimpered against it and he felt it, he felt Jimmy, pressing against him, hands on his skin and pushed forward. 

Closer, closer and closer.

“Gonna fall of the bed,” Jimmy chuckled against his throat. 

Laughing Thomas switched from pushing to pulling but his eyes widened as he saw the sun shining bright into his room and he froze. 

“Thomas…” Jimmy sung his mouth and tongue against his jaw. 

“Morning,” Thomas whispered like it was it worst thing in the world. And as to prove his point there was a sharp knock on his door and the hall boy Peter yelled six o’clock. 

“Your inner clock is scary,” Jimmy mumbled grumpily his head falling onto Thomas’ shoulder.

Thomas inhaled sharply, he moved back and Jimmy looked up and he grabbed Jimmy’s face with his hands. “I… this is real?” he whispered it again and his heart was pounding.

“I have to tell you so much… I can’t lie anymore. Especially to you,” Jimmy ran a hand down his spine. 

“This is…”

Jimmy nodded. “The song Thomas… Us wasn’t accidental, it’s the truth. We are Us.” 

“Oh…” Thomas exclaimed with shock and he felt himself tumbling again and he leaned forward to kiss Jimmy because he could. He could. He could do what he wanted. He grabbed his hand and brought it to his lips again, dragging his lips and tongue across the inside of his wrist. Jimmy’s sharp intake of breath and the parting of his lips was so beautifully real and Thomas knew.

“You love me?”

Jimmy nodded, his mouth to Thomas’ ear. “And I’ll tell you when the emotion stops choking me…” his voice cracked. 

“Oh,” Thomas breathed out again. 

Jimmy wrapped his arm around him and pulled him into him, tightly embracing him and his mouth pressed against Thomas’ neck and he hummed the final melody of their song against his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eep. It's done. I've truly appreciated all the comments as I trudged along. Hope you liked the ending <3


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